Hey Cheeky Monkey,

Driving to work was a little too quite this morning. I usually listen to the radio, but I just didn’t feel like listening to people blabbering nor there was any good songs to listen to. Didn’t feel like listening to the CDs either, so I just turn it off. It was too quite.

I turned my head to the back where your booster seat is. You’re not there anymore. Usually when I take you to preschool, on our way there, we ‘talked’. Not about the gas price, nor the war in Iraq. We don’t care about that, do we monk? We talked about cloud shapes, car brands, Star Wars, and Freddy Mercury.

“Mom, will you please play my favorite song?”
*Teasing* “Hm… which one is that again?”
“Well duh… We Will We Will Rock You!”
“Oh yeah, that’s right.”
The intro’s playing. Cheeky Monkey’s banging his head and making the ‘metal’ sign with his three fingers
“I know who sang this song.”
“You do? Who?”
“Pretty good. But that’s the name of the band.”
“What’s the guy’s name again? Fred?”
*Giggle* “Freddy Mercury, honey.”
“He’s dead, right?”
“Is it OK to say ‘dead’ for a person, Mom?”
“Well, it’s nicer to say ‘passed away’ instead of dead for a person, actually.” Although for some criminals and crooks, I prefer the word ‘dead’.
“How did he die?”
“Well, he was sick. Real sick.”
“Oh. Is your grandpa passed out too, Mom?”
*Giggle* “You mean passed away?”
“Oh yeah. Hey look! Another Scion. Just like Cherry, Mom!”
‘Cherry’ is my car. The kids named it that way because the color, just like a cherry.

I also miss your toys/gadgets scattered around my car. You always bring in something to my car, “Just in case I get bored.” Be it one of your gazillions Matchbox, or the Darth Vader mask, or some kind of ‘contraption’ you made from the Tinker Toys, “It’s a back scratcher, Mom. Not a fishing pole!” I also kind of missed the sticky notes, all 20 of tem, of your doodling. You’d post three or four on the window next to you, and the rest were all over the floor. My car was too clean and organized now. Something’s wrong. It’s too quite.

Monk, I missed ‘talking’ to you. I missed looking at the rear view mirror and see your face. I missed your mess. You’ve grown up too fast. You’re in Kindergarten now. Not needing me as your chauffer anymore. You’re taking the bus now. Do they play ‘We Will Rock You’ in the bus? My cheeky monkey, it’s all too quite in my car.