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June 17, 2002 - Monday
Harry and I are on the way to daycare and about to pull out onto Main St. when a truck pulling a flatbed with a backhoe on it comes around the corner heading in our direction.
"Harry, look," I say as we pull out behind it.
"It's a backhoe," Harry says with a little less raw excitement than he once did, but then adds his current favorite backseat request, "catch up to the backhoe, dad." Then with a little more thrill he describes the situation. "It's a flatbed with a backhoe on it. The backhoe is resting on it. The truck is taking it, maybe to a construction site."
I agree with Harry that his assumption is probably a good one and think to myself how aware and articulate Harry is as he enunciates and accents the longer words.

Just last night we finally replaced the batteries in Harry's backhoe and it's gone from barely moving to full speed again.

Harry adds, "maybe the backhoe needs batteries."
I again agree with Harry that he might have a point, deciding not to discuss a real backhoe's fuel needs and just enjoying hearing Harry's mind at work.

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