As my Mario Andretti races around the house, I remind him as I watch him veer in a zig zag fashion and see him narrowly miss impact with the door frame that he must be a careful racecar driver and remain in control, less he spin out, careen into a wall and lose the race. With the utmost conviction in his voice, Cole replies "...but mom, I have to go 100 miles ago to win!". I laugh out loud and say "you mean 100 miles an hour?" He looks at me with such exasperation and says "no, mom 100 miles ago, I'm just playing pretend!"
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