Just one week shy of 17 months of living with my little boy and I’ve already learned the finer points of truck identification, the nuances of train construction, and the ability to find wheels in my sleep. As we were watching the diesel engine leaving the station this weekend, I heard myself say things about trains I didn’t even know I knew. How did I even know it was a diesel train? Did all those years of going to the Henry Ford museum in Dearborn actually sink in? Was I LISTENING?
Amazing. You can take the girl out of Motown, but. . . .