Bojangle's

I can tell the week is half through when C starts playing with his 18-wheelers and talking about his Daddy truckin'. This morning I woke up and parked next to our bed right by C's pillow was three miniature 18-wheelers. He told me "This black one's my Dad's and this says his name!" pointing to the lettering on the side that really reads "Bojangle's"! He went on to tell me they were at a truck stop and had to eat french fries.

 

Earlier this week I found his 18-wheeler's parked at the fire station on his road-rug.  A parks his truck at the local fire-department on the weekends because there is not room at our home. Apparently C thinks this is normal and ANY and ALL 18-wheeler's must park at their local fire department! I found the fire-trucks parked at the Burger-joint.

 

The first couple days of the week without Daddy usually go smoothly in our home. C proudly announces to everyone he sees that "Daddy's on the road!".  Half-way through the week though, he starts talking about him more. He never cries or gets sad, just talks about him more than usual. Like last night, he wanted me to take him to the fire-station. He said to see his Dad and his truck. He does not quite get that his Daddy is not at the fire-station, that he takes his truck and drives a thousand miles each week away from home.

I hope to take him down to the fire-station to watch A pull-in and pull-out this weekend, maybe then he will understand better. I think we are both counting down the days and hours until our trucker comes home.