Now, wherever we go, so goes Wightning. And Scott replays the movie as he races Lightning over the backs of chairs in the dentist office waiting room, his car seat arms, the back of the couch, his bed, his stroller frame, the slide at the park. He is never without Wightning unless we’re at the table (“No cars at the table, here, Mommy,”) or in the bath, (“Wightning will get ruined in the bath, here, Mommy.”). The only time he wakes up in the middle of the night anymore is when it falls out of his hand. I’ve spent many a 3AM pulling the fallen car out from behind Scott’s bed or digging it out from under his pillow.
