I took my son to Legoland a while back with a neighbor of mine. Her son is a year older and so, when we reached the Volvo driving school, we froze as the lines separated the kids into different age groups. One line was for those 5 and under, the second line was for kids 6 and up. This was going to be difficult to explain, or I thought.
My son and I stood in line with the 5 and under crowd while our friends went and stood in the line with the older kids, a line which was much longer than ours. By the time my guy was finished driving, we found them, still in line along the other track. My son was convinced that he was going to drive over there too and, while I thought about explaining to him, one again, that he wasn’t old enough, I figured I’d just wait and see what happened when we reached the front.
When it was “our” turn to go in, the Legoland employee made sure to ask each child their age. My son, who up until that moment was excited about driving again, looked her dead in the eye and said, “Five and a half.”
At this tender age that precious half is so important that it didn’t even occur to my son to lie about such a thing. She looked at me (as if I were the one trying to cheat) and let us know that he wasn’t able to drive on that track. She directed us to the other side (like we didn’t know about it already) as my son took it all in stride. No crying, no temper tantrums, no complaining. And me? I was so proud of him for handling it so well. If only us adults were so calm – and honest – under similar circumstances.