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I’m back from vacation! George and I spent Thanksgiving in London, and had a fab-u-lous time. Now I’m battling jetlag, and trying to caffeinate my way out of it. I know, you’re weeping for me, right?

Sam spent the week being spoiled rotten by his grandmother. Now that he’s back home, he’s suffering culture shock at the harsh reality of parental rules. Last night, he got into such a huff about God knows what, that he announced he was leaving. He got dressed, put on his shoes, and then turned to George and asked for the car keys.

He’s three.

Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, George handed Sam the car keys, and Sam marched off to the garage, without so much as a backwards glance at us.

“I don’t think you should have given him the keys,” I opined.

“It’s not like he can drive,” George said, as we heard the backdoor open and slam shut.

“Are you so sure about that?” I asked.

George and I exchanged a look. One of Sam’s many nicknames is Baby MacGyver. Give the kid some tin foil, dental floss and a box of Tinker Toys, and next thing you know, he’ll have built a working jet plane.

“I’d better go get him,” George said, standing quickly.

“That,” I said, "is an excellent idea."

Posted 29 November 2006 at 02:50 PM