My nearly three year old son and I have different priorities.
Mr. K was a baby when he first became a bit obsessed with taking whatever object he happened to prize on a given day with him. His taste has become a bit more refined since the days when a box of plastic clips for keeping packages closed was his treasure of the day, but so have his angry cries when something goes wrong with it. Every time we go out in the car, he will have some toy or another that he has insisted on bringing in the car. Every day, without fail, he will drop it at some point on the journey.
“MUMMY! DUMP TRUCK!”
“MUMMY, oh no, PAPER!”
“I CAN’T REACH!!!!!!!!!”
What with not being a contortionist and also needing to drive the car, I often can’t do a lot to help him. To express his frustration with this situation, he has developed something of a squawk. He yells all of this in a slightly husky yet high-pitched voice, channeling an angry crow. When words fail him, it becomes a full-on screech. If he was distressed for a good reason, it would be quite an upsetting noise. Since he’s angry because a piece of a 100 yen jigsaw is now on the car floor, it’s just… grating.
“Mr. K,” I try to explain to him. “I’m driving the car. I can’t reach either. I’m sorry-“
“- I’m driving the car, Mr. K. You just have to wait until we stop.”
“NO DRIVE CAR.”
“No, I can’t just stop the car-“
“NO. DRIVE. CAR.”
Because this really isn’t an option when you’re driving at 70km/h down the highway, I end up just sitting there quietly while he squawks out his anger. E is usually eying him with great amusement herself by this point, not yet having quite figured out what is wrong with him and being entertained by the noise. Eventually, he shuts up and gets distracted with another toy, and we get to carry on in peace. Until he drops that as well, anyway…