Model is a reminder of visit

Why is there a Lamborghini on the shelf above the refrigerator?
Because we’re still picking up after Thanksgiving.
Actually, it’s not a real Italian sports car on that shelf. It’s a 1/43 scale diecast model, part of a collection of cars and trucks that started when I was about 8 and wound down about 20 years later.
Most of the models — okay, let’s be honest, toys — are wrapped in old newspaper and stuffed in an ancient suitcase in the attic.
But the Lamborghini has been on the loose.
Back when our twins were little, much of the collection was on display for a few years. And the Lamborghini — a Solido model, hot red, with opening doors, hood, and engine cover — was hard to resist.
While the collection was supposed to be off limits, the Lamborghini was played with.
And, inevitably, somewhere along the line, it was broken.
I think a door came off.
When that happened, the girls did what any kids would do. They hid it, tucking it away and hoping that Dad would never ask about it.
That ordinarily would have been the end of the story.
(One of the ways parents affirm their unconditional love for their children is accepting the material losses and collateral damage that are part of childhood.)
But the Lamborghini re-surfaced the week of Thanksgiving.
Turns out that while the toy car hadn’t been on my radar, our youngest daughter played with it when she was little. Apparently her big sisters shared it with her. And while playing with it, she too did her share of damage.
By November, the Lamborghini had no doors at all. The hood was present but no longer attached. And it was only a matter of time before the engine cover disappeared and the wheels fell off.
That’s the condition it was in when our grandson found it. “Car!” he shouted.
For the first 48 hours of his visit, he seemed to be taking inventory of every toy or potential toy in the house. He quickly zipped through the box of age-appropriate toys we’d put together, then he raided our daughter’s closet in search of other goodies.
That’s probably where he spied the battered Lamborghini and found it just as appealing as his mother and his aunts and his grandfather had found it years before.
But it really wasn’t an appropriate plaything for a 2-year-old. The wheels posed a choking hazard. So another toy was substituted, and the Lamborghini was swiftly moved someplace high and out of sight, the shelf above the refrigerator.
And that’s where it still is today.
Meant to be a collector’s item on display in some guy’s den, it now looks like a miniature demolition derby candidate.
The rest of the toys have returned to their proper storage spots, but the Lamborghini on the shelf lingers on as a reminder of our grandson’s Thanksgiving visit.
Sort of like the graham cracker crumbs we’re still vacuuming up.[[In-content Ad]]