Army Guys

I have said it countless times before, but I guess I will say it a few more times; Lincoln is obsessed with army guys and fighting bad guys.

While we were at Wal-Mart I asked Lincoln if he wanted a Power wheels. In case you have forgotten, Power wheels are those cars you dreamed of driving around when you were little. Lincoln looked at the red Corvette and shook his head, “No, I want army guys.”

Yes, he wants a bag of $3 army guys instead of a $200 Corvette he can cruise around while waving at the ladies. I suddenly felt myself trying to persuade him to ask Santa for the Corvette, but he only answered, “Maybe for Easter mom.”

His Christmas List

I don’t know why I was trying to get him to choose something 60xs more expensive, but I was. It might be the fact that he already has about 200 army guys lurking around every corner of our house. It might be their sharp and pointy guns that my feet seem to love to step on. Or it could be that they always seem to find themselves in my shoes, our bed, our closets, and now frequently inside my socks.

But I think the biggest reason I hate army guys, is because of the following conversation I had at Lincoln’s school. I have been trying to make friends with the parents, and it is no easy task.

Me: Hey, your little boy is just so outgoing.

Other mom: Oh, I know. He is all over the place and keeps us busy. Which boy is yours?

Me: Lincoln, the little blonde.

Other mom: Oh yes, he is so……hold on…..there is something in your hair.

Me, briefly thinking about Maverick’s breakfast flying through the air: Okay…

Other mom untangling my hair with a confused look: Is that a…..is that a toy?

Yep, sure enough she pulled an army guy out of my hair. I tried to mumble out an explanation, but we were both thinking the same thing,

         “How long had that been there?”