Supermom.

I'm not gonna brag or anything, but I'm pretty freakin' awesome at this Mom gig. I mean, I turned an old t-shirt into a superhero cape and mask in no time flat. Who does that? Supermom. That's who.

A construction zone of his own.

 

My Personal Assistant loves all things construction. (It might have something to do with the number of site visits I take him on, but every parent drags their kid to work at some point right?) Diggers, dump trucks, skid steers, flat beds, transporters, front end loaders, steam rollers, tractors, cranes...you name it, he loves it. Oatmeal is not oatmeal any more, it is "construction zone oatmeal". Nothing is picked up with our hands, only with our "crane hands". We even have a scripted conversation about diggers that we have every time we get in the car. The script must not vary, this is not improv. This is serious.

Him: "Can we see some diggers today?"

Me: "Perhaps, if we keep our eyes open."

I got the idea that perhaps he needed a construction zone of his own.