Truck
By Donna McCrohan Rosenthal, East Sierra Branch
The incredibly tired mom and the friend sat in the utterly exhausted grandpa’s house. The mom’s three-year-old played on the carpet. We’ll call him “Dude.”
Dude showed the friend his collection of toy trucks, explaining, “This is a dump truck. This is a backhoe. This is a ….” When he finished describing all of them, the mom said, “Let’s go home. It’s late.”
“NOOOOOooooo!” Dude wailed. He sobbed. “I want to stay,” he insisted, as only a three-year-old can.
“We’ve got to go. I’m wiped out,” urged the mom.
“NOOOOOooo!” came the reply. “I want to STAAAAAY!”
“You can’t stay tonight,” offered the grandpa. “I have an early-morning appointment. But today is Wednesday. If you stay Friday night, we can watch a movie and I’ll fix some of your favorite foods.”
“NOOOOOooo!” Dude then quickly reviewed his options, transitioning in his head from Wednesday to Friday, and conceded, “The weekend would work.”
“That’s great,” replied the grandpa.
Relieved, the mom and grandpa sighed as they walked with Dude to the car.
“Bye,” said the friend to the mom. “Bye, Dude,” she added. “Thanks for sharing your trucks with me.” The three left, but returned two minutes later.
“What’s wrong?” the friend asked.
“With all the fussing and commotion and resistance,” gasped the mom, “I locked my handbag and keys in the car. We have to phone Triple A.” She called. She paced. The grandpa plopped weakly into his chair.
Dude rushed over to the friend and told her about his trucks again. “Guess what the dump truck does. Guess what the backhoe does…. “
After what felt like an interminable wait to the mom and the grandpa, the driveway lit up like an amusement park. A huge AAA vehicle rolled in, bigger than big, wider than wide, and taller than tall. Dude rushed over to the window and pushed his face against the glass.
“Whee!” he enthused. “Wow! This is the best! See how high the seat is. See, the driver just got out to help Mom.”
Task completed, at last the mom came back inside the house, retrieved Dude, and headed for their car. She looked hopelessly wrung out. Grandpa appeared every bit as sapped. Two desperately, pitiably, totally drained people.
The mom raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes.
The grandpa leaned over toward the sofa, almost too beat to stand.
“Whee!” said Dude, grinning ear to ear. “What a truck! This was fun. Can we do it again on Friday?”
Fiction – but based on real events.