My two-year-old son is obsessed with big things, which I expect is true of a lot of boys that age. There is an attraction from small boys to big things that is just a fact of life.
He only speaks in two or three word sentences. And “big” might be his only adjective. Is there farm equipment driving down the road? It’s big. Did we drive past a particularly high building? It’s big.
So if he wants a drink of milk, and in the fridge is an almost-empty gallon, but sitting next to it is a full gallon, he wants a drink from the full one, because its bigger. Sometimes he just walks around saying “big! big! big! big!”
We got a car ad in the mail the other day. I asked him which car he would like. The answer was obvious. He studied each of the small pictures intently, and settled on the biggest pickup he could find.
I was just curious to see what he would choose . But he was sure he was going to get it. “Let’s go,” he said. “Get truck.”
My explanation that I was kidding was not sufficient. Soon he located a toy key. He knew what it was for. “For my truck,” he said, holding the key proudly.
We didn’t go get him a truck, unfortunately. Luckily, he only has the attention span of a two-year-old, and he soon settled on something else that was big.
However, soon after that, his older sister that is twice his age said something profound about the size of things. We were out looking at the stars, and the moon was just a tiny crescent, like a sliver of silver floating in the sky.
“I like the moon when it looks like that,” she said, and then added, “Whether it’s big, or its small, it’s still pretty.”
I guess you can learn wisdom at the ripe old age of four. I’m sure her brother will get there too, sometime when he’s bigger.
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