On the drive home from school today, Destroy began to muse about his past and future.
transcribed by Mommy
Superheroes can fly really fast. We saw real superheroes at our birthday party when we were 4. But you know what’s faster than superheroes? Fighter jets. They go fastest of all.
This year for when I’m 5, I want to bring donuts to school and have a jet party. The superheroes can come and paint jets on the wall.
Then, when I get really big like Papa, I’m going to fly a jet. It’s going to go so fast. And it will be a fast fire jet because it will have fire that comes out of it.
Hey Mommy, hey Mommy. Mommy. Also in my so fast fire jet that does the fighting I’m going to have a parachute rope on my back. Then I will jump so high and fly away from my fighter jet down on the ground and catch bad guys like Daddy.
Yeah. I’m gonna catch bad guys. But then I’ll fly super fast in my orange and white jet.
No Mommy, it’s a FIRE jet. Not a fighter jet. I’ll be the fighter with the parachute rope *in* the fire jet. Because the jet shoots orange and white fire.
Can we go to the store and get a flight suit? Actually I just want a flight shirt. But I need a flight suit pilot costume for my birthday. Maybe I can wear my superhero cape with it. But first I need to be 5 and go to kindergarten.
I got a rock for you at school today.
I am unsure if he is explaining an early dedication to serving his country as a special forces paratrooper or simply an overabundant viewing of Disney Planes.
Regardless, I now have the image of a little Top Gun Maverick living in my house. I doubt it’s too far off from the actual persona he’s trying to cultivate; he recently served a timeout at school for an impromptu performance solo of Old MacDonald in the library. (Preschool version of You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling? Perhaps the cows lost their moo?)
In any case, I have no doubt our future leads down a highway to the danger zone.