“Mom,” Sean said, “I want you to take these baby toys and put them away.”
He was standing next to my desk holding a small box.
He laid the box on its side and Jay Jay and the gang came to a crash landing on my desk with a clatter.
“What’s wrong with Jay Jay?” I asked puzzled. “You love Jay Jay.”
I picked Jay Jay up. He was missing a bit of his tail section but was just as bright and cheerful as ever.
“Well I’m big now,” he said seriously. “I’m more into planes that really fly.”
“No! Stick with Jay Jay!” I wanted to say.
But I didn’t.
I took the little box of airplanes and stuck them in the back of his closet.
The next day, when he wasn’t looking, I pulled them out and lined them all up again one last time and took their picture.
I recalled the day we bought Jay Jay at the Pensacola Flight Museum. Sean was two and a half and had a head full of long blond curls. I remembered how happy it made him and how he clutched that little plane to his chest in his fat little dimpled hand. I remembered how happy it made me to buy it for him.
And now, so soon, he is more into real planes.
One by one, I tucked each of the little planes back into the box and then returned them to the back of the closet.
So long Jay Jay.