Thomas The Tank Engine

My oldest has been obsessed with Thomas The Tank Engine since he was nine months and able to say “Choo-Choo” in his sleep. Upon hearing this we looked at each other in the next room and wondered if we’d heard right.

As it happened, we had.

His fascination with Thomas and the engines on the island of Sodor was born when someone unwittingly purchased him a Thomas train for Christmas. From there, it snowballed into bridges, tunnels, turn tables, the Fat Controller and many of Thomas’ sidekicks.

I owe a lot to Thomas who, not only enlightened me to the world of pistons and axles but, despite tv being a no-no, he held my two-year-old enthralled on many a late afternoon during my first trimester while I lay shattered on the couch. However, he may have been a life-saver but we learned that Thomas the Tank Engine is an expensive obsession.

One day up at the local shops, we chanced upon one of those machines that pops out lollies and toys. Well low and behold there was Thomas and co, albeit a miniature version with wheels that didn’t turn but Cadeyn was excited nonetheless and at $2 a train, well, so was I.

Cadeyn – then 3 - placed his $2 in the machine and out popped Gordon. He was rapt. The next time he was due a treat we made another stop at said machine. After warning he may end up with another Gordon, he was willing to take the punt. Duncan popped out. There were six different trains in all and the next time it was Emily. “You little tin-ass,” I thought as Edward made his appearance some weeks after.

One Spencer later and we were down to the last train – Thomas himself. Mr Confident marched up to the machine, placed his $2 … and out rolled … Gordon.

The mother of all meltdowns ensued.

“But… I… wanted… Thomas,” he wailed, while Jai and Jayla watched in awe from the safe confines of the stroller. 

I tried desperately to reason with him but couldn’t be heard over the ruckus. By now we were attracting attention on the narrow sidewalk as people stepped around our commotion to get by. Then a kindly elderly man stepped up to my son, bent down and said “Oi, what’s all the fuss about?”

Cadeyn was so taken aback by this stranger that he stopped at once.

I took the chance to remove my lot safely from the scene.

Once he could see reason I verbally replayed the scenario with my little man.

“And then you threw a big wobbly,” I finished.

“But where mummy,” he looked around mystified.

“Where what?” I asked equally puzzled.

“Where is the wobbly I threw?”

“Ah…. “

My feeble explanation to that isn’t worth repeating.

Wobblies aside, with Thomas playing such a large role in our lives over the last five years, it is with some sadness that I note the dust gathering on the tracks.

The end of an era.