Bob

Eleanor is really into trains. I'm not sure where the fascination started. Perhaps it was on her first birthday when she was given a train that sings "I've been working on the railroad" while carrying a monkey, an elephant, a lion, and a train driver. Or maybe it was from riding one of the two miniature trains in our local regional parks. Whatever the origination, her obsession with trains has been fueled by the "Thomas the Train" tables that are in every kids' section of Barnes and Noble Bookstore. She doesn't know that they are blatant advertising for the Thomas books, videos, and train accessories. In fact she has never seen any Thomas paraphenalia except for the lovely wooden trains at the store. She doesn't know that Thomas is the blue train, she just loves to make them go round and around the tracks.

People without kids may not realize that these train tables exist, but they do. Oh, yes, they do, and I have my own fascination with them - from an anthropological standpoint, of course! These train tables are like social forums at which toddlers and preschoolers hash out the dynamics of real life under the not-so-watchful eyes of their bored parents.

I'm sad to say that this is where Eleanor has learned the art of hoarding. You see, the majority of the attendees at these tables are little boys who are very aggressive, and who blatantly ignore their parents' pleas for them to share, share, share. Of course, why would they listen to their parents when their parents are obviously more interested in reading their Blackberry e-mail or chatting on their cell phones than actually engaging in their childrens' world of play. So, playing with these untamed little bullies has taught Eleanor how to passively fend for herself. She has learned that the only way to play with the trains without having them grabbed right out of her hands is to quickly pick up three or four of them and then stand with them clutched against her chest. She watches the table for an opening around the table and then she rushes in to put her trains on the track for a few seconds until another kid comes near her. At this point she scoops up "her" trains and steps back warily until the intruder passes by. She loves to play with the trains, but spends most of her time trying to protect her bounty and to fend off the the grabbers.

To give her some alone-time with the trains Cap generously bought her a train track set and two of the Thomas-brand trains for her birthday. For those of you who don't frequent the train tables I should mention that each of the Thomas trains has a name which is printed on the bottom of the train car. But, Cap, who doesn't spend nearly as much time at the train table as I, was unaware of this fact. He bought her "Henry" and "Old Slow Coach " but when Eleanor asked him what the trains' names were, Cap told her that they were named Thomas and Bob. It's practically train sacrilege to refer to any other train by the name Thomas! And, Bob, well, I don't have to convince anyone that it just isn't a TRAIN name.

This brings us to today.

Eleanor did not take a nap today. Not a one. And, as the afternoon wore on we both became increasingly worn down. Eleanor got more and more frantic and I became more and more tired of listening to her talk and talk and sing and talk and sing. Normally I love her sweet voice and the hilarious songs she invents, but today the talking and singing escalated to a near manic point.

Unfortunately, around 6:30pm I had to pick up Cap from the train station this evening because he couldn't bike all the way home. For the first seven minutes of the twenty minute drive Eleanor yelled at me from the back seat "I want to go on the train! I want to go on Daddy's train!"

"I'm sorry, Eleanor, we can't go ON Daddy's train, but we can see it when it comes and when Daddy gets off the train."

"NO!!!"

(What do I say to that?)

Then, we passed under the tracks for the Metro train (we were going to the real train station, not the Metro). Eleanor switched her tune at this point. She started yelling "I want to go on the Metro train! I want to see the Metro train!"

"Sorry, Eleanor, we're going to the BIG train, not the Metro train. We can go on the Metro train another day."

"NO!!!!"

(Sheesh, it's bad enough when she HAS slept!)

So, after I explained to her for some time that she could go on none of the trains that she wanted to go on it got quiet in the backseat. She was thinking.

All of a sudden I heard "BOB! I want to see BOB!" over and over again.

"What?" I thought, "Who the hell is Bob...?" This really threw me for a loop because I was so prepared with comebacks about trains, and I couldn't figure out who she was talking about. "My god, where does she come up with this stuff?" And then I remembered.

And, at this point, out of sheer exhaustion, I just started laughing. Bob, freakin' Bob. There was no way I could come up with something to answer this. So I just listened to her cries for Bob. No matter how annoyed I get with her since she turned two, I can't help but love her. A tiny little girl who just wants her train named Bob. You've gotta love that.