I've had this stuffed rat (Scabbers from Harry Potter - right on) sitting on my floor for months, along with a few other items that I've had the intention of giving away or something. I just haven't gotten around to it. Sometimes I'm lazy like that.
Anyway, today Mathew (dad's girlfriend's son, who is 5) walks into my room and picks the toy up. "Is this yours?" he asks.
"Yes, it's mine. But you can have it if you want, as long as you share with Mason." (Mason is his twin brother.)
"I want one of these for my birthday," he tells me.
I'm confused. "You mean a real rat?"
He laughs. "No. One just like this."
"You mean a stuffed one?"
I'm trying to make the connection in my head. "But I just said you could have that one."
"Yes," he says offhandedly, and continues. "And for Christmas I want a bike."
"And do you know what I want for Easter?" He doesn't give me time to come up with an answer. "Another bike!"
"You want two bikes?"
"Yes," he answers with a nod.
"What would you do with two bikes? You don't even have enough legs for two."
"I know, but the second one is in case the first one breaks."
"Oh. Well that's just good planning."
"I know," he says proudly. He studies the rat a little more before asking, "Can I have this?"
I raise my eyebrows. "Uh, sure. Happy birthday, kiddo."
He looks thoroughly confused. "It's not my birthday."