It’s His Car

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Late yesterday afternoon, his Uncle Joshua and I helped 2-1/2-year-old Mr. Peanut play on his plastic tower and tiny slide.

Until almost dark, we repeatedly gave him a hand, to climb up the side of his tower, and then watched as he carefully climbed out onto the top of his slide, sat for a few seconds, and then excitedly slid down its 1-1/2-foot height to the ground…

Mr. Peanut's tower and slide.

… only to excitedly run back around to climb up the side of his tower again.

Except that, a few times, instead of running back to his tower, he joyfully ran down the driveway, toward the street, laughing as he ran.

Each time he did that, we both chased him, and Josh loudly scolded him, snatched him up, and threatened to end his playtime if he didn’t go right back to his tower/slide.

The third time that happened, Mr. Peanut was very angry, and it appeared that his feelings were hurt.

He ran to the side of my car and leaned against the driver’s door with both hands, while he cried.

Josh’s rebuke was swift:

“No, no, JoJo! You don’t hit people’s cars!”

Mr. Peanut’s reply was just as swift:

MY car!”

This morning, once Mr. Peanut was back in his car seat, for our daily errands and ministry, I decided to see if he remembered yesterday’s incident.

Turning around in my seat, to face him, I asked,

“Mr. Peanut, is it OK if I drive your car — please?”

With his head tilted slightly down, his eyes slowly moved, to look up at me.

A tiny, sheepish grin appeared at the corners of his mouth, as he quietly, self-consciously replied,


Mr. Peanut is going to drive HIS car.

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