Trackside

Dinoco... Pink?

Baby Cal gets into an artistic medium he shouldn't have. 

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Cal's parents needed some time off from raising the sweet, but rambunctious toddler, so they decided to go out of town for a few days and drive around the countryside. They dropped Cal off with Strip and Lynda, who at the time had nothing better to do. To say that the kid kept them busy would be an understatement.

The first day was spent child-proofing the house. They couldn't figure out how on earth Cal kept getting into the places he was. He tried to climb Strip's trophy showcase, nearly knocking it over. He then found his way onto the kitchen table and started pretending it was a circle track. Lynda later found him inside a cabinet chowing down on something he most certainly should not have had in his mouth. If they didn't keep tabs on him at all times, he would be gone in an instant and up to no good.

"Why can't you just stay in one place?" Lynda asked him, cleaning up a vase he'd accidentally knocked over while zooming around the living room.

Cal responded in garbled toddler-speak. He flashed her that big, innocent smile that melted her heart. She couldn't be annoyed with him if she wanted to. And she wanted to.

"Cal, come 'ere." Strip called from the next room, hoping to get the kid's attention away from his wife long enough for her to clean up the mess.

Cal immediately whipped into the living room to see what his uncle wanted. Seeing the big, decorated racecar was a treat in and of itself for the kid, even if he had no grasp on why.

"Look at that." Strip gestured to the TV on the wall across from where he was parked. He had it tuned to RSN to watch the stock truck racing. "You see them? You like racin', right? Why don't you park over here next to me and watch this."

Cal revved his tiny little engine and made vroom noises with his mouth at the same time. He became fixated on the TV, watching the racers go around the track. Strip watched his nephew. Cal would lean to the left every time the pack went around a turn and make noise to supplement it. Strip couldn't help but smile. Even when the commercials came on, Cal was still in his own little world, making noise like he was out there racing.

Then a Dinoco commercial came on. Strip sighed a little, he didn't really care to see himself on TV. All Dinoco's commercials had either clips of him winning races or posing for something. This caught Cal's attention. He became quiet for the first time all day. Then he reached out with his tire to tap Strip, and pointed towards the TV.

"Ship! Ship!" he repeated enthusiastically. His uncle looked down at him, confused.

"Whatever you're trying to say, kid, it ain't makin' it though the language barrier." he said, knowing Cal wouldn't understand him.

"I think he's tryin' to say your name." Lynda interpreted, coming into the room to join them.

Strip looked back down at Cal, who was staring back up at him with wide eyes. Then, the race came back on, and Cal revved his engine, resuming his previous state of pretend-racing. Strip smiled again. If this kid was to become a racer one day, he'd be good. With that sort of passion, there was no denying it.

"I'm exhausted." Lynda said, yawning. "It's only 7:30 and I'm ready for bed."

"Yeah." Strip agreed. "Hopefully he will be too, before long."

An hour later, Lynda tucked Cal in in the guest room across the hall from their bedroom. Cal passed out almost immediately, more worn out than he let on.

"Finally, some quiet." Strip said as Lynda joined him in their room.

"Enjoy it while it lasts." she replied. "I'm gonna leave the door open, so we can hear if he tries to get up."

"You mean so you can hear if he tries to get up."

"Yeah, yeah... You know, you'd sleep through a hurricane if there was no one to wake you up."

Not twenty minutes later, the little putter of an engine came through the doorway. Cal wedged himself right in between Strip and Lynda, wiggled around a little bit, and went right back to sleep.

The next day was a little more laid back, as Cal grew tired of exploring the house and climbing on things. Lynda kept him busy doing arts and crafts in the kitchen most of the day. At one point, Strip took him out in the back yard and let him pretend he was a racer, going in circles around the yard. Strip used chalk paint to put a 42 on Cal's side, absolutely making the kid's day and boosting his confidence (a little too much). Cal ended up crying, somehow stuck in a bush, and so they came back inside. The kid was content painting pictures for his parents the rest of the evening.

They were starting to get the hang of the whole babysitting thing. Again that night, Cal didn't want to sleep alone, and joined them at some point after he was supposed to be asleep.

The sunlight came through the window the next morning, waking them up. Lynda was the first to fully awaken. She looked down at Cal, still snoozing away at her side. She saw he had bright pink splatters on his little hood and fenders, and was a bit confused at first. He hadn't gotten any paint on him yesterday while doing crafts. She looked around the room and saw the can of paint laying open on the floor on the other side of the room. He must have gotten into it last night without her knowing about it, she concluded.

Then she looked over at her husband, and had to bite her lip to keep from busting out in laughter. Strip opened his eyes a little, waking up. Lynda couldn't contain herself. She started laughing so hard she couldn't breathe, let alone speak. Strip looked at her, confused. Mornings did not typically start out like this for him. Why was she laughing? He looked down at Cal, who was still sleeping like a rock. He blinked a couple times, and Lynda just pointed at him and kept laughing. He rolled forward a little bit and saw the can of paint sitting on the floor. Dread came over him, and he looked in the mirror on the other side of the room.

"Are you kidding me." he groaned. His entire left side was slathered with messy hot pink paint, from his tires all the way up to his door handle, as high as Cal could reach. Somehow the kid had even got the side of his spoiler and the left half of his hood splattered in the stuff.

Lynda finally gathered herself for a second and took a couple deep breaths. "I can't take it. I can't deal with it." she said, sounding exasperated.

"You're laughing now, but you're the one who's gonna hafta clean it off." Strip said, slightly annoyed. "How did he even manage to do this? You were supposed to keep an eye on him!"

"Don't blame me." she defended herself, starting to laugh again. "You somehow slept through a three year old giving you a paint job. That's on you. But don't worry, I think it's washable."

"It better be." Strip grumbled.

Cal was awake by that point, looking around at his aunt and uncle. He slowly, sleepily rolled across the floor towards them. He only seemed to remember what he'd done the night before when he passed the can of paint. He looked at it and giggled, then looked at his uncle and giggled some more. Strip gave him a disappointed look, but Cal came over to him and snuggled up to his side.

"Ship." Cal said with a big smile.

"Awww." Lynda was completely under Cal's spell. "That's just adorable."

Strip sighed, looking down at Cal. The kid was instantly forgiven, if but for nothing else than sheer cuteness.

Lynda laughed a little again. "Alright, come on now, Cal. We gotta go clean all this paint off before your mama and daddy come back."

Cal squealed in excitement and followed her out the door. Strip looked at himself one more time in the mirror, and again, couldn't help but smile a little. That kid was something else.