John's favorites were the railroad ...
... and the sliding-climbing rope.
He also enjoyed filling his shirt pocket with rocks. He loves rocks.
(This is a long, boring one, if you are not passionately interested in John or gravel.)
He also enjoyed watching the train.
But he took a minute to have some quality Dad-Son time. Tony said that once they had both sat down, John said "I want to talk about some things."
Here he is inside the Tiny Town Firehouse.
He liked the gas station too, but was mostly interested in buildings he could go inside. Primarily because he didn't want to wear his jacket in the rain, and we let him take it off when he was inside a building...
This was Tony's favorite display. Someone has a really wicked sense of humor. Notice John peering in through the back window in the second shot.
9 comments:
Whoa, that last picture is kind of freaky...
It looks like you guys had a lot of fun though...big fun.
We have a Rio Grande train in Clevedon, too. It's neat.
Fun times!
BTW, John is such a good climber! He appears to have an excellent sense of gravity and understanding of foot positioning and body control. Naomi is way behind in that...
Nice pun, Jessica.
Yes, I'm very proud of John's understanding of the rudiments of climbing. I'm sure it's partly innate, partly because he's so little and skinny, and partly because I usually refuse to help him do it, so he had to learn on his own. I don't like helping kids climb... (Uh, oh, you've got me going...) My theory is that if you don't help them, they are less likely to get into a situation in which they can't get down or are likely to fall... Mostly, it's because I'm lazy and don't want to stand there with one hand on his butt for the whole playtime...
No, I think you're right. I still have a very clear memory of the time - I have no idea how old I was - when Dad was mowing the lawn in the front yard in Richardson, and I climbed the sugar maple in the front yard. I was old enough and tall enough to get up into the tree, but then I couldn't get down again. And by that time Dad was on the side of the house, so I was stuck. After a little bit of a I'm-all-alone-and-sad moment, I managed to slide down - I skinned hands and knees and things, but nothing major, and I definitely had a better sense of being sure about exit strategies from the start of any endeavor...sort of.
Wow, Jessica - I had no idea. I've always wondered what that scratching scrabbling noise was when I was mowing the side yard...
I've already explained that John has the "John climbing gene" - me, John Roberts, now John Michael. He can't help it!
I don't mind the climbing gene, because so far, the caution-measure-out-your-obstacle gene has come with it...
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