I Never Did Tell You About...

...N and the F train. Remember, we were in New York for four days total, and on two of them, we never left Queens. But for some reason, the second he descended beneath the streets of New York City, my 4-year-old son turned into a subway afficionado, and a snobby one at that. Perhaps it was because his first ride on the subway was on an F train. I don't know. All I do know is that by the end of that day he had declared his passion for the F--and, by extension, his hatred for the E, the D, the B, the V, the 4, the 5, the 6...All his little boy heart was interested in was riding on the F train.

There really is nothing that can do justice to the scene this kid made on the subway. On our way home from his uncle's house, he was loudly--some would say ear-shatteringly--lamenting the fact that we were NOT on an F train. When I mentioned that we would be transfering to an F in just a few stops, he began to hoot and pump his fist into the air. "Woohoo! Woohoo!" New Yorkers--real New Yorkers--smiled and laughed at him, made eye contact with me, even, in order to shake their heads in disbelief, apparently at the cuteness of it all. Because it was cute. Almost terminally so.

Now, you are not to assume that just because he's 4, the boy has since let it go. Oh, no. He's declared his ardor to everyone he talks to. On the airplane ride home, he turned to me without any preamble and simply said, "I sad when Zaboo and Pumpkin get died. I happy when I go on the F train!" Even tonight, almost two weeks later, when Em mentioned something about the subways at dinner, N piped up. "The F train? I loooooove the F train!"

(This is not the first time that I've been forced to wonder whether or not I'm ignoring him as he crosses the line from kooky kid to seriously bizarre person. I just figure that seriously bizarre couldn't be this freaking adorable. Or maybe it could...)

In any case, being the overly indulgent parent that I am (but refuse to admit to being), I took it upon myself to find my boy something to commemorate his first great transportation love. I think he's going to flip. And then refuse to take the thing off for about four straight weeks. But I'll cross that bridge or, rather, track when I come to it.