Obsession

My little one is obsessed with puppies these days. He pretends he's a puppy. He only chooses dog books at the library. He talks incessantly about whether he should be a dog breeder or a trainer when he grows up. His favorite place to go is not the the playground, but the dog park. He's thinking maybe he could have his own dog park when he's a breeder/trainer.

I was somewhat prepared for this, because my oldest son spent his preschool years memorizing the names of NASCAR drivers, learning who the sponsors were for each car (Mommy? What's Budweiser?), and matching the cars to their numbers on the racetrack I drew for him on brown craft paper.

I have to admit, the puppy obsession is more up my alley than NASCAR. I can appreciate oohing and aahing over the pictures of sweet little Spaniels and hounds in the books. I am more than happy to play "vet" with the stuffed animals that crowd my little guy's bed. And when he wants to wear his plush puppy costume out to the store, I don't argue. He'll soon outgrow this phase - too soon, I fear - and the next obsession is sure to be less innocent, less sweet.

In the meantime, it's puppy love.