Sawyer's trike

Sawyer's new favorite word is OUTSIDE. He says it: ow-SI-yd. And that's where he wants to go. All the time. He wants to put on his SHOES and go OWSIYD to play on his new BIKE, which is really a trike, but try to explain that to a one-year-old. The BIKE was a hand-me-down from our godson and Sawyer's still too small for it, so it's very frustrating. He can't quite reach the pedals, and it's a squirrely thing to try to push around. But, he loves it very much - being a subspecies of the most beloved CAR-CAR. Half the time he sits on the thing backwards, and when he gets on the right way he can barely reach the floor to push with his feet. I watched him try to drive it around on the gravel driveway this weekend. That proving too difficult, he started to push it up the driveway to the asphalt cul-de-sac (our gravel drive is a quarter mile long hill). Halfway up, he started screaming frustration. I was impressed he made it that far. Then he wanted to bring it into the house, which I let him do because I'm a sucker and it was too darn cold for me OWSIYD this weekend. But inside there are too many things for the trike's cumbersome back wheels to get caught on. And the frustration mounted to tears. So the BIKE had to go back OWSIYD. Sawyer spent the rest of the weekend standing by the door: BIKE? SHOE? OWSIYD! DADA! BIKE! OWSIYD! and melting down into a puddle on the floor. Look at his face. What kind of cruel parents are we to deny our child that kind absolute joy.