One day last week, G decided he didn’t want to go to preschool. Normally he doesn’t complain too much about it – he likes his teacher and he likes the toys. ‘Why don’t you want to go to school?’ I asked. ‘Because I don’t want you to put away my train tracks,’ was the reply.

‘I promise I won’t put away your train tracks,’ I solemnly swore, resigning myself to live with the wooden impediment a while longer.

The next day, I put the baby down on the floor so I could get a few things done. When I returned a few minutes later, I found this:


(Note the smirk behind the pacifier! And he’s only six months old….)

Luckily big brother had forgotten about his attachment to that particular track.

Disaster averted.


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