My son and I were going through his toy dinosaurs. He had two sets of six and an extra one making a total of 13 dinosaurs. One set was rubber while the other set was a hard rubbery plastic. The spare dinosaur, a T-Rex, was big like the rubber ones but was made of the hard rubbery material the smaller set was made of.
The reason we were going through them is he told me to see if I could sell them on eBay. He separated the sets for me, put the T-Rex in the middle of the two piles, and said, “What to do with this one?”
“I don’t know. They’re your dinosaurs,” I answered.
He put them with the little hard rubbery plastic ones. Whatever worked for him was okay with me until we started putting them into the bags in which I would be storing them. I realized the brontosaurus in the litter was really small in comparison to the spare T-Rex. The Brontosaurus was one of the largest prehistoric mammals at one time so I asked him why he chose that pile.
“Because he is a hard rubber like this set is,” he replied.
“But they are all small and he’s bigger than the Brontosaurus.”
“So, what difference does that make,” he asked.
I put the two dinosaurs in question side by side and said, “The Brontosaurus should be bigger and if you’re a child playing with them, wouldn’t it disrupt your imaginative play? Just put it with the bigger set, it fits.”
He shook his head at me. “It didn’t bother me when I played with them. It won’t matter.”
“Put it with the bigger dinosaur set,” I insisted.
“Why? It’s made of hard rubber like the small dinosaur set.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I insisted again.
Just as insistently, he said, “Yes it does matter. It’s not rubber like the other ones. Besides, you’ve already got a T-Rex in the big set.”
I showed him the little tiny T-Rex in the small set. “You’ve got one here, too.” Then I took the T-Rex and put it with the other ones anyway.
“Mom, it’s not made of rubber,” he said completely exasperated with me.
“I don’t care.”
“You’re not listening to me!”
I sort of chuckled a little and replied, “Yes, I am listening to you. You want him with the smaller set based on the material he’s made from while I want him with the bigger set based on his size. So, in essence, you’re not listening to me, either.”
“What are you trying to say,” he asked absent of all humor.
I started laughing and answered, “What I am saying is, I don’t give a shit.”
My son threw his hands up and said, “See, that’s exactly why I don’t like doing things like this with you because you just don’t give a shit!”
I just love my kids; they so get me.