What's Old is New Again

My son had a very "Hot" Christmas as he got a rather wide assortment of "Hot Wheels" toy cars. He got two from his godmother, four from his other godmother and his grandmother (a joint gift), money to buy "Hot Wheels" from his godfather (which was spent on two "Hot Wheels" and four "Matchbox" cars to be exact), and a loop-the-loop set from his aunt and her husband, his other godfather. We spent most of Christmas evening (that's the evening of the 25th) playing with his toy cars and the set. It was some of the most fun I've had with my son in quite awhile, and I remembered how much I enjoyed playing with toy cars. I never remembered playing with a set that looped, though.

The next day, I visited my mother's house while she was out, and as my son and I were playing with his set, she happened upon us and said "oh, you had one just like that when you were a kid."

I found it funny that for all of the slick packaging, Mattel, Hot Wheels' parent company, was basically regurgitating stuff they had made thirty years (possibly more) ago. Sure, there have been innovations (like tracks that you can attach to the door) and downgrades (cars that are made of plastic rather than diecast metal, that ostensibly are lighter and more suited to these race sets), but essentially it's the same stuff.

Rather than dismaying, this is actually comforting on some very important levels.

In an age where technology is growing is leaps and bounds, and kids are becoming increasingly tech-savvy, it's a huge comfort to know that there are things my son and I can do together, just as there are things he and his (hypothetical) son will be able to do together some day. It may sound revoltingly cliche, but I rather like the idea of being able to connect with my kid through these little metal toys. It also helps me keep in touch with the child within.

Be Careful with Idle Promises

My four-year-old son Raphael is notoriously difficult to feed. You know the type: he'd rather play or watch TV or eat anything except the food on the table. It's different, of course, when he's really hungry or when his mother and I are around to watch him like a hawk, but even then he tends to pretend to eat while his food will trickle off his food and onto his plate. Considering how difficult he can be to feed, it's even harder to get him to try new food.

My father, to his credit, tried once, using a method that was doomed to spectacular failure, but which is destined to be a truly wonderful piece of family lore.

My father, my mother and my son were seated at the table eating lunch, when my father offered my son a certain dish that he hadn't tried before. True to character, my son obstinately refused, but my father played the salesman, guaranteeing the little boy's satisfaction.

"If you don't like it," my father, who my son refers to as 'Tatay' declared, "I'll eat my hat!"

Raphael then tasted the food, chewed a little bit of it, then refused to eat any more.

He then looked intently at my father, a grin breaking out on his face.

"Eat your hat now, Tatay!" he exclaimed.

And that is why we have to be careful what we promise our kids...