Railroad Lessons For A Five Year Old

This week is my nephew's first as a five year old. Five is when kids start asserting themselves more. In fact, putting him in his place has always been a challenge and now his linguistic prowess reinforces that dogged determination, adding much to the frustration to the blindsided adult trying to teach him a thing or two.

I bring up this story of stubbornness because today he blew up over really nothing. This week I progressively unleashed the wooden marvels known as the Ikea train set upon this toddler. On Monday I gave him a basic two-train and tracks kit. It also came with a bridge. He was delighted. On Tuesday, I gave him additional tracks, surprise number 2. Today, got surprise number 3 - curvy tracks and another bridge. With all these additional equipment to build his railroad empire, he set about the usual way of joining the implements and then wondering why they didn't loop back around. He started to move furniture to accommodate his engineering whims and fancies. I told him he needs to think about how that can happen. This conversation happened as I partook upon an oatmeal, biscuits and dried berries breakfast and his Highness in the floor in front of the TV. I finished quickly and joined him. I proceeded to explain how the curved tracks joined up and what he could do with them. I broke up his existing linear display and proceeded to form a figure-8 with the new bridge in the centre of this new magnum opus. Quite nice if I say so myself. But then I am 38. My intention ultimately is for him to craft out a plan in his head and build that, so I started to break up my masterpiece which my nephew had already started layering on the rolling stock. He burst into protest then tears. He hit me with the dismantled pieces.

"You can build it again! Ow!" I urge while ducking. "No I cannot! I cannot build it again!" He wails in agony only a 5 year old can appreciate. It was as if his pet had died or Ben 10 got cancelled. Calamity of the highest order for a toy has been destroyed.

"All the pieces are still here! You have to use your imagination! Ow!" I plead. With actual tears down his cute cheeks, he screams "Nooooo! I cannot! I cannot!" He immediately reminded me of that failed musician character in Sesame Street (or was it the Electric Company?) that couldn't complete his rhymes. In the end of the scenes he'd go "I'll never get it, never get it, never!" while crashing into the piano keys with despair and melodrama.

Now my mum, the nephew's grandmother and self-appointed Defender Of Evil Against Kiki comes around to scold me. "Why did you destroy the track!? You got to work now!" "Come, Kiki, we build it again on the dining table" she goes to placate the little monster. "He needs to learn to build it again. He can do it" I went to which I received the antagonistic "Go away lah you".

Sigh. I slipped away to brush my teeth. The construction scene outside moves from the dining table back to the floor as my mum realises her notion of railroad design isn't as small as my nephew's ambitions for grandeur.

I come back out and lo and behold, a wonderful figure-8 track laid out on the laminate. Larger, more quirky and fabulous than my earlier attempt. All my mum did was guide the track under the bridge component. Lovely. Happy kid.

So I asked my nephew for an apology. For all the noise, screaming, emotional blackmail, threats to my being, actual bruising on my person and general mayhem that ensued just minutes earlier. Good grief. He threw daggers at me with his eyes. Life lesson part done.

Before I left home, I angled him with "Surprise number 4". He seemed genuinely interested once again. I asked him to say sorry. He did in song. I'll take what I can get, admist the realisation I was very late for work.