TheMonk loves his cars. Especially his cars from the movie Cars.

We’ve got three different versions of Lightning McQueen. We have Sally, Red, Doc Hudson, Sheriff, Ramone, Old Mater, New Mater, and The King. (I remembered all of those from memory. I used to have to remember things like Avogadro’s Number but now I have to remember the name of the low-rider from Cars.)

Recently, The King was missing. In our house, whenever we can’t find a toy or something the kids want, we announce that the object in question “is hiding.” The King had been hiding for a few weeks.

But yesterday, Mommy found it in Swee’Pea’s purse. I think The King was trying to get cozy with Swee’Pea’s Sally car but he refused to talk.

Anyway, TheMonk was thrilled that we found The King. As soon as I came home from work he announced to me that The King “isn’t hiding anymore.” He carried that thing around until it was bed time. He wanted to take it to bed with him but we discourage toys in bed so he handed it over before going to sleep.

The next morning, TheMonk ran straight to The King and carried that thing around all morning. When it became time to go to daycare, he asked if he could take it. We usually let them bring one toy so I said, “Sure, why not?” The kid was happy.

But not so happy when it came time for Mommy to pick him up from daycare. At some point during the day, The King went into hiding. And TheMonk lost it. He cried and cried as Mommy and daycare provider tried consoling him. When he got home, I happened to be home with a cold. He bolted into the front door, ran straight to his bucket of cars and dumped it onto the floor, frantically sifting through the hunks of colored metal on the ground looking for they familiar light blue Dynoco paint job of his beloved King – as if hoping against hope that he somehow left TheKing at home. But the realization sunk in and TheMonk began to cry.

TheMonk is a gentle soul. And it breaks my heart to see him so distraught. Mainly because he usually is the laid back one and doesn’t get riled up as easily as his sister. Today, however, the thought of losing The King for the second time was just too much. So I did the only thing I could think of. I threw on my jeans, packed up TheMonk and Swee’Pea (she wanted to come along too) and we headed to Target to get us a new King car.

Along the way, it warmed my heart to hear the conversation in the back of the car.

“Daddy’s going to get you a new King car, Monk.” said Swee’Pea. “I gonna help you get a new King car, too.” she said earnestly.

“Yeah, Daddy’s gonna get me a new King car!” TheMonk exclaimed happily.

Soon enough we arrived at Target and I held their hands as we crossed the parking lot and proceeded into the store. (This is a new development, being able to walk them in somewhere rather than pulling out the double stroller. Quite liberating.)

We arrived at the toy aisle and found the Car movie section. I rifled through all of the cars and realized that there was no King. Thinking fast, I grabbed Boost off the shelf and I knelt down to TheMonk’s eye level. “Buddy,” I said “The King isn’t here today. I think The King is hiding at daycare and we’ll find him on Monday. How about we get Boost here and you can take him home to play with him until we find The King. Okay?”

TheMonk thought about this for a few seconds and, much to my relief, agreed. We decided we’d get a car for Swee’Pea too and she selected an orange car named Snot Rod (I don’t make ‘em up, I just report ‘em) which happened to be packaged with Boost. Sweet, two for one.

I extracted the car from the packaging and handed them to Swee’Pea and TheMonk. While Swee’Pea left her car on the floor minutes after entering the house, TheMonk clutched his car through dinner and right up until bed time. Knowing he couldn’t take Boost to bed, we carefully placed Boost at the foot of the stairs – waiting for TheMonk to grab him first thing tomorrow.

Crisis averted.

When the twins were young, I started posting the photos of the twins on flickr as a way to archive my favorites and let Grandmother pick and choose which ones she was going to show around her office that day. Soon after, a woman named Samantha Jo began commenting – quite frequently – on the photos. I loved the comments and we jokingly referred to her as our “flickr stalker”.

Well, along the way Samantha Jo started her own blog and since then I’ve been stalking her. When she started her blog she didn’t have children but about seven months ago she became pregnant and I’ve been following her crazy pregnant life the entire way. Except when she posts photos of her belly – that’s just Too Much Information.

But this week things have been rough for Samantha Jo. She was admitted to the hospital with symptoms of premature labor, was released, and is now back in there. The baby seems to be doing fine but it’s still worrisome. So, here’s where I ask you a favor, dear readers…

Can you please go visit Samantha Jo at here blog Back To Me and offer some words of encouragement, tell a joke, or just say hi? I’m sure she’d really appreciate it.

Thanks! You’re the best.

I signed up to participate in Citizen of the Month’s Great Interview Experiment where bloggers interview each other. I was fortunate to have Woman with No Regrets interview me as she asked me some very interesting questions. Go see for yourself.

Back by popular demand… It’s Name That Photo!

If you were going to write the caption for this photo, what would it be? Leave me your thoughts in the comment section! Extra points if you can use lyrics from an 80′s song. (What will those extra points get you, you ask? Absolutely nothing.)

I pride myself on being a good driver. I always use my turn signals, I keep a safe distance from the car in front of me and I only send text messages with my cell phone when I’m driving slower than 35 mph. I am such a good driver that in my almost 20 years of driving, I have never even been pulled over by a police officer – which is probably a good thing because I’m pretty sure I’d end up crying.

Maybe you didn’t need to know that last part.

But my point is… I’m a good driver. In fact, I am so good that long ago I figured out that the green light means go and the red light means stop.

But that doesn’t stop a couple of backseat drivers in the family announcing to me every time we’re in the car… “Red means STOP Daddy! Green means GO Daddy!”

I mean, they’ve got a good 13 or 14 years before I’ll even consider them being an authority on the subject. And as for TheMonk, I’m getting kinda worried. He seems to be an impatient one as we wait for the light to turn green. “TURN GREEN, DADDY! TURN GREEN!” he’ll shout as we sit at a stop light. I think he thinks I have the power to turn the lights green.

And that’s just what I’m going to let him believe for the next 13 years or so. That’ll teach ‘em to be backseat drivers.