Hank: Do you see the light is green?
Me: All those lights are green. When that happens it means the lights are timed. That means little robots tell the lights to let everyone go at once.
Hank: Outside robots?
Me: Yes, they live up by the lights.
Hank: We cannot see them. We should go on a walk to see them. And then they will give me robot high fives!
Me: Do you want syrup on your pancakes?
Bryan: Here you go! The finest syrup New Jersey has to offer.
Me: Real syrup. None of that watery maple crap.
Bryan: Tree whiz.
Red Rocket Print from John W. Golden
A few months before his third birthday, Hank comes into the living room where I’m working.
“Mama! You wanna see the moon?
He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom where Dad is already looking out the window in the dark. Hank closes the door to block the light from the hall, and comes to the window with us.
“The moon!” he says.
“The moon!” we say.
It’s a bright crescent moon, high above the apartment buildings. Hank sighs, “I never gonna get to the moon. The moon is very far away. I don’t know what kind of spaceship I need.”
“Yeah, what kind of spaceship do you need?” I say.
He says, “A red one, I think.”
Bryan turns to him, “Yeah. Those are always faster.”
Hank (yells from living room): Mom-Mom? Where is this tank engine?
Me (yells from kitchen): I’m not sure. Are you holding it?
Me: It’s in your hands, love.
Me: Have a bite of your zucchini soup, honey.
Hank: I can’t.
Me: Why not?
Hank: It’s dangerous.