In all the years we’ve had Thomas the Tank Engine tracks in our house, there’s been a constant: TheBoy will kick over bridges as he walks over. I’m not sure what it is, but he just can’t seem to get his foot up those last couple inches to clear it.
We groan, fix the track. But after Pacific Rim came out, the Kidlets became well versed in Kaiju. The next time that TheBoy knocked over a bridge, one of them shouted, “Kaiju!” And it became the new thing.
He sighed, looking at the mess. “Do you ever wonder if the Kaiju were misunderstood?”
“Like maybe they just had bad depth perception or were just klutzy?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, continuing to stare at the toppled bridge.
I started to laugh, the long deep kind that usually leads to snorting. It’s something I haven’t been able to do much this week, and it felt exhilarating to do. “We didn’t mean to destroy your city, we just tripped on our way to say hi?”
“Exactly.” He walked off into the kitchen. I’ve decided that Misunderstood Kaiju is my new band name.