Stop the presses!

At 12:30pm on Sunday, September 18, 2005, the following occurred:

John was pushing Thomas the Tank Engine around the track on his train table. I was watching an assortment of football pregame shows (I know this is a shock). I paused, looked at John and Thomas and, as Thomas passed close by, said "Hello, Thomas." I do this often -- have conversations with my kid's toy trains. Typically, this is a give-and-take, and John replies for Thomas (or Gordon, James, Douglas, Percy, Edward, etc., etc., etc.).

This time though, John stopped, looked at me, and said "Dad, trains don't talk."

Time passed, or maybe it stopped. I just sat there with my jaw open, staring at John. Meekly, I said "They don't?"

"No, they don't. They just whistle."


This child-developmental progress was offset by a bunch of men wearing Miami Dolphins uniforms (I hesitate to call them "Dolphins" because true Dolphins players don't suck like this!), who went out and lost yet another football game. Saturday was better, as the Gators won.