The Gravy Boat

When The Bean was about four years old we went to a thrift store. (Shocking, no?) He was digging in the toy bin while I looked around at things near him, keeping an eye on him too. He walked over to me with a bright orange plastic Gravy Boat in his hands.

"What's this?" he asked.

"That's called a Gravy Boat," I told him.

"Wow! A Gravy Boat!' he exclaimed. He held it up to the gleaming window and admired the Gravy Boat. He was in awe of the Gravy Boat. (Keep in mind that we didn't have a real Gravy Boat at our house, so this was a new concept for him).

"Do you want it?" I asked. He had a play kitchen full of play food, real pots and pans and dishes that he played with. A lot. All day. He certainly didn't have a Gravy Boat, so I thought that is why he thought he needed a Gravy Boat for his kitchen.

"Uh-HUH!" he said and clutched it to his chest.

So, we paid the quarter for the bright orange Gravy Boat and he rode home with it clutched to his chest admiring his Gravy Boat all the way.

That night he was geting ready for his bath and I heard him gathering up his toys for bath time. When I went in to check on him, the Gravy Boat was sailing in the tub while The Bean said, "Gra-veeee, Gra-veee" (like a tugboat whistle).

He thought it was a Gravy boat. A boat full of gravy.

I found the Gravy Boat this weekend while I was cleaning out some things in preparation for a yard sale.

I kept the Gravy Boat.

(Gravy is a dumb word after you type it and read it a hundred times. Gravy.)