Real Tools

As we passed a garbage truck this morning, Turner announced, "Mom, I want to be a garbage man. With tools. Real tools."

For the past week, all I've heard about is how Nicky has real tools, and how much Turner wants real tools too. Nicky is five, and I'm pretty sure he hasn't been bringing his tools to the babysitter for Turner to see, so I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that Nicky's tools are not much more real than Turner's. But either way, given Turner's propensity for pretending to hammer nails in such things as the wall, my arm, and the television screen, he's unlikely to get any real tools anytime soon.