When Ridge was in the ballpark of being 2 years old, he discovered Thomas the Train. It was instant love, pure and unfettered love. He would bawl at the television, mounting a protest until Thomas was played for him
Somewhere along the way, he started collecting a nice team of the trains in the Thomas series. For hours, he would push them, always with gentile care. He's quite protective of his toys. His brother, however, is not. Many a battle has erupted at our hours of the trains.
A few months ago, we lost the star of the show, Thomas. We still have many of the other trains, but Thomas got misplaced in life's daily hustle. For the most part, he has forgotten about it, but the subject does come up occasionally.
Mollie picked him up from Rainbow Lane today as she does every Wednesday. I knew immediately it wasn't going to be rosy day for Ridge when he called me at the Hog Trough, insisting I come get him that instant. Of course, Mollie is kind of a baby whisper, so she handled. (See, Mollie, I do too write nice things about you.)
In spite of the early fit, Ridge was having a fantastic time, that is, until he discovered Carson's Thomas, the same exact model as the one we lost. Now, to fully understand all this, you need to know that Ridge and Carson are almost the exact same age.
Now, everything I am about to write is hearsay, based solely on the second hand account I received from Mollie. It goes something like this here:
Ridge spots the train. "It's MY Thomas! It's MY Thomas! I am taking my Thomas and the tracks home."
Carson hears the excitement. "No, that's not your Thomas, that's MY Thomas."
The crisis apparently got heated enough that the two boys had to take to Mollie. She said she looked down the two of them, both crying, and listened to their cases.
Carson explained that Ridge was going to take his Thomas home. Ridge then confirmed that was indeed his intentions. Mollie tried to explain to Ridge that they had bought Carson the same exact toy as his old Thomas, which is why they are identical. Ridge tells everyone to stuff it, by God, that's his Thomas.
Needless to say, I made him leave the Thomas with his rightful owner and, needless to say, Ridge had a meltdown, a snotty, red-faced, tear-streaked meltdown. As we pulled down the road, Ridge still screaming like someone being tortured in one of those Eastern Bloc torture chambers, when I remembered that my mom has the exact same Thomas at her house. She lives in the close vacanity, so we just swung in and got one.
With his Thomas clinched tightly in his fists, all was right for Ridge again.