I got home from work last night and M was sitting there with his bowling bag, ready to go. Unfortunately, bowling isn’t until tonight, so he was ready a day early. I did, however, manage to get the sweatshirt that he has worn for five days straight put into the dirty clothes basket. Whether or not it stays there is another story.
Those of you of a certain age will remember the song “I Wanna Rock” by Twisted Sister. It wasn’t exactly what you might call a classic, but (as they used to say on American Bandstand “) it had a great beat and it was easy to dance to.” Now, who remembers THAT?
M has adopted his own version of “I Wanna Rock” as his own theme song around the house, only he’s singing “I wanna drive!”
Constantly.
Ad nauseam.
I understand it – I truly do. He’s stuck in the house in the dead of winter. It’s not a fun place to be. Nothing’s going on, so he can’t get out and go visit or go shopping and any of the day programs he might be able to participate in are shut down because of COVID.
And freedom. He misses the freedom of being able to jump in the car and go wherever he wants to, whenever he wants to. I understand that. He’s now forced to wait on me to come home and take him somewhere – or to ask our older son or my dad for a ride.
Not the same as just going on your own.
But I get so TIRED of the same conversations over and over and OVER again.
He wants a car.
This isn’t a good time to buy one.
But he wants a car.
This isn’t a good time to buy one.
But he wants a car.
This isn’t a good time to buy one.
And so it goes.
Sometimes, I think he’ll get tired of having the conversation. I’m tired of it – surely to goodness, he’s tired of it, too. But it’s like expecting a toddler to be tired of asking “why?” or a dog to be tired of barking.
It just never happens.