Yesterday the radio flyer wagon we ordered for our grandson's birthday arrived. Today I decided I'd better put it together and make sure everything was there. First my husband yelled that he was not putting it together. Now I'd done the gift getting, and was willing to help, and it was his turn to step up to the plate. But wisely, I said nothing. Ten minutes later he said he'd assemble it and we opened the box and surveyed the nuts, bolts etc and got started. It wasn't easy, but all the parts were in the box and together we got it done in about an hour. But it would still be in the box if I had yelled back at him that I'd done everything for the gifts up until now, and it was the least he could do. I let him cool down, and he did. This is a long marriage. I know when and how to pick my battles, and I understand that inside my husband's head he's already saying he should help. I just need to give him time to do so.
The wagon looks great, and way to big for a one year old, but it's a useful item for throwing toys in and taking them out, moving the tires, going to the garden store and bringing back plants with the one year old in the middle, and making forts or imagining transport vehicles from another planet. It's BIGNESS will impress our grandson. A boy needs his wagon. And his grandparents need all their experience and wisdom to navigate this old world.
No comments:
Post a Comment