Rescue My Cars

From the category of things I never thought I would do comes “Rescue My Cars.”

This morning, I woke up to my son fussing. It was a bit surprising, but nothing unusual. But when the fussing lasted a couple minutes, I decided to find out what was wrong. I found him laying in his bed and fumbling with his hand between himself and the side of his bed.


“You need me to get your car?” I asked.

He nodded.

I reached for the area that he had been fumbling around in, and began to feel for a car, presumably in the crack between mattress and bed frame. As I fumbled around, I happened to bump into him and felt the car inside his one-piece pajamas.

As I was driving the car up to the neck of his pajamas and removing it, my son said, “Car?”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “You have another car in your jammies?”

He nodded.

I reach for the spot where I had found the first car. Nothing. I felt his back. Success. After safely driving that car to his neckline, I crawled in bed with him, now clearly understanding why he had been fussing.

After a moment of snuggling, my son looked at me and asked, “Thomas?”

“Are you going to put your train down your jammies too?”

He smiled mischievously and nodded.

Silly little boy. Thankfully, he didn’t put Thomas the Tank Engine down his pajamas.