M-cycle

The other night we pulled the minivan into the garage. We looked over to where F usually parks and he'd pulled the riding lawn mower in and parked it. We all got out of the van and T and I proceeded to head into the sun porch.
We looked around as we hung up our bags and realized that we left M behind in the garage. I peeked in and she was sitting in the lawn mower seat.
I told her she could stay there a bit as I got things situated (ahem, put sweatpants on) for the evening.

I came back about 5 minutes later. She was still sitting on the seat.

I approached her and she waved her arms furiously and squealed "NO! NO! NO!." (This behavior usually indicates that I am not welcome to come in and make the fun end.)
I asked her what her plans were.

"Driving. NEED to drive." she said.
"Drive the motorcycle."

She sweetly patted the steering wheel of the lawn mower.

Well, bless her little "motorcycle" lovin' heart.

We had a picnic supper in the garage that night. All the while, M sat upon the "motorcycle" and pushed every button possible to push and pulled every knob possible to pull.
Occasionally she would sob a little and say, "It's not working. It's not working." I would remind her that she could sit on it but was not allowed to actually drive yet.

She would sigh, and grip the wheel tightly with both hands, "Vrrrrooom. Vrroooommm."

Look out world.