Ah, my Z. The boy whom, when brought to Toys R Us (a place we very rarely go to) can be found in a secluded aisle reading rather than looking at toys, and likewise when brought to the neighborhood park chooses to settle down with a new book, but whom also can't resist running ahead when he spots a patch of concrete to pretend he is an airplane (I assume; the bottom photo was taken from many hundreds of feet away and by the time I caught up with him he had already moved on to a hundred other thoughts he wished to discuss.)
I don't know if I ever bought something for him at Toys R Us. I shop at the most unusual places for a child (when shopping for him). When people ask me what I bought for him, I always have to explain Z before I tell them that I shopped at Home Depot (for example).
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