Cars

After numerous attempts to find the Pixar movie at the local rental shop, I finally came across an unrented copy of Cars. Mollie and I had long suspected that Andrew might really enjoy this movie and finding it was the final piece in the evening I was planning.

I picked Andrew up from daycare and we headed off to our first stop, Aldi. On the way there, I told him what we were looking for, tomato sauce and biscuits. The biscuits were for a future meal and the tomato sauce was for tonight; Andrew and I were going to make pizza.

After a quick stop at County Market, as our pop corn kernel supply had run its course, we were home and began the baking process. Andrew so loves to help dump things into the bowl that it is often difficult to keep his hands off until the scoop is ready. He helped mix the batter, prepare the sauce, knead the dough, flatten the crust, spread the sauce and load up the toppings. He helped put a few Canadian bacon slices on the pizza, then added some pepperoni by placing each small circle directly on top of a slice of Canadian bacon. Daddy filled in the gaps, completely covering the pizza with pepperoni. By the end, my main difficulty was keeping him from eating the toppings right off the pizza.

The pizza went in the oven and Andrew played with his animal matching magnets on the fridge. Twenty-some minutes later, we were all sitting on the couch enjoying the pizza and watching Cars.

Andrew did enjoy the movie, though well past half way through, his attention began to wane. I tried putting him to bed once, at which he cried, but he eventually stopped and politely asked to sit on the couch again. How could I resist? As the movie drew to a close, our hero racing towards the Piston Cup, there was a spectacular wreck behind him, sending ‘The King’ flipping over and over through the infield. Andrew, with a whimper in his two-year old voice cried out, “Blue car fall down. Daddy, blue car fall down.” I could hear the pain and worry in his voice and quickly reassured him that the blue car was alright, but he wasn’t convinced. Our hero stopped short of the finish line, stricken by the very event that had my son so worried. Lightning turned around and drove back to the ‘blue car,’ pushing him across the finish line. “See, the red car is helping the blue car,” I told Andrew. Seemingly convinced, Andrew watched the rest of the movie in relative peace.

Morning came, as expected, and Andrew’s voice echoed through the baby monitor beside our bed. He was asking for his blanket. I went downstairs, hoping that his covers would buy me a few more minutes of sleep, but it was to no avail. He refused his covers, only allowing Elmo to be wrapped in blankets. With him still in his bed, I laid down on the guest bed. Andrew, now fully awake, began to talk. “Daddy, blue car okay!”

I’m not quite sure my story has a moral, but I once again find myself amazed by my son. At his young age, he is able to empathize with another ‘being,’ be it only an animated car. Yet it brings to mind images of a much younger Andrew crying out in angst when something he perceived as bad happened to his mother or me. At the least, I am sure that images from the movie stuck with him throughout the night and he found solace in my reassurance that the blue car was okay.

Andrew found his ticket to the bed-free world by asking to “Watch Cars.” We got up and turned the TV on, while Mollie and Anna came down stairs. I resigned to my study to share these thoughts while the other three members of my family relaxed in the living room. I have long ceased to be surprised when Andrew remembers some event from the day before, a week ago or even months past, but am yet amazed by the feat. A few paragraphs in to my blog, I was interrupted by my wife. She was relaying the wishes of my eldest, “Daddy, Andrew wants pizza.”