The Car-Seat of Authority

Anyone who knows Ian knows that he is an absolute "Type A" personality. He lives in, and believes he is in charge of, an exteremely ordered world. He knows what he likes, and has a pretty good handle on how to store and keep track of those things, and how to hide them from Daniel. And there's no better "snapshot" to illustrate the order in his world than his car-seat - both in Amy's car and in mine. He's only six now, but already for a couple of years, his seat has maintained the same organization and richness of content.

The modern toddler/preschooler car-seat is an elaborate construct. In Ian's case, his car-seats have tended to have either mesh pouches on the sides or cup-holders or both, and Ian has a keen ability to optimize the use of this space. For years now, these receptacles have been well-stocked with cars and other toys, for his diversion while on the road. I have always found it hilarious to see something as juvenile or bordering-on-infantile as a car-seat, elaborately organized with accoutrements for the young passenger.

And the only thing funnier than his management of the space is his full mastery of its organization. The other day, when he wanted me to get him something from my car after we had come home from a state fair, he provided directions as to his toy's location with photograhic accuracy. And his language in describing it was at least as lucid as his knowledge of the terrain. This is verbatim:

"In your car, in one of the cup-holders that's in my booster seat, you'll find Herbie."

(September 27, 2009)