As we were finishing loading the truck and he was supposed to be eating breakfast, he kept running outside to see our moving truck. He said to Devon:
“Go see big truck. A-Maze-Ing!”
“What’s mommy haaaave?” (We tried to make everything exciting and attention-grabbing. It worked?)
“What’s Inside?!” (He thought the box for the DVD player had a present in it. At the time, it was empty.)
“My phone calling Dodo.” (Dodo= Uncle Derek)
“Move Indiana few minutes.” (Don’t I wish. Instead you will be in the car–for dayyys.)
“Big truck FAST!” (He kept talking about the moving van as Nana’s big truck.)
“Scoop up TV in tractor.” uh-huh.
Sometimes I had to climb from the passenger seat into the back to appease one child or the other. But Arthur didn’t always like that:
“No mama! Sit Down Seat!” (Safe little guy)
and the best for last. On our first night in a motel, we planned to have Arthur sleep on the floor. It was remarkably difficult. But we tucked him in and laid in our bed (pretending to sleep). Devon sang song after song to calm him down and after a few minutes, he was quiet and still. Then, out of nowhere, he popped up and purposefully walked around our bed and past the pack and play to the bathroom door. He tried it but couldn’t open it, so he trotted back around to Devon’s side of the bed climbed up on the bed and bent over so his face was maybe an inch from Devon’s face and closing in:
“I CAN’T OPEN DOOR” he loud-whispered.