I was visiting with some young friends and their son. He is three and adores remotes.  At one point during my visit he told me, “I am a button man.”  I figured that was somewhat akin to being a car guy. I told him that I love buttons and had a collection of them.  His beautiful blue eyes grew rounder in excitement.

“You have buttons?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I  even wrote a story about buttons a long time ago.  Maybe my next visit I’ll read it to you.” I don’t know how we got were we got next, but I commented that I had a button on my jeans.  Max asked, “What does it do?”

And then it hit me. Max’s interactions with buttons have nothing to do with clothes and everthing to do with remotes. Dressed in pull-over sweatshirts and pull on pants, and zippered parkas, where do kids today encounter buttons except on keyboards and remotes?

I still might read him my story one day but I’ll probably bring my button jar. Otherwise he may well get quite confused.

 

If you’d like to read the story, head over to Grandparents.

 

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