Blue buses and things that move

Yesterday morning at breakfast (yes, the breakfast where I was told in no uncertain terms to sit back down) I was telling Sam all about the day to come, just to get him ready for it. "We're going to get in our car, and go to the airport, and ride a bus, and ride in an airplane, and then we're going to see Nana and Grandad!" Sam immediately picked up on one word in my litany:

"BUS!"

Sam has a small thing for buses. Ok, a not-so-small thing for buses. We have favorite books about buses that we read over and over. We have songs about buses that we sing over and over. And we have pictures of buses all over our house. In fact, Sam's favorite way to get our attention when we are working on the computer is to grabs our legs tightly and cry "boo bus!" We dutifully pick him up, set him in our laps, and google blue buses. (who knew that there were so many blue buses on the internet?) So the prospect of seeing a bus up close and personal was almost too much for his 18-month-old brain to handle.

When we arrived at the airport and boarded the bus, we were sure he'd be thrilled, all his dreams fulfilled. Instead he cried. And screamed. And proclaimed that he was all done. Until we realized one important fact we had neglected to point out - the long-term parking buses are all Blue Buses. Life was good again.