Nate is a big fan of the Disney/Pixar movie Cars. He called the toys to him, and they came: in birthday party goodie bags, from the Grouses, from his grandparents. I don’t even know where they all came from, but he’s amassed a pretty decent collection. Plastic and die-cast, he carries them everywhere.

On Friday, one of his classmates brought a really big Lightning McQueen toy to school. The toy is probably about a foot long, with moving eyes, and a bunch of sound effects: low-fidelity recordings of Owen Wilson’s voice, saying “Ka-chow!” and “I… am Lightning McQueen.” Nate’s toys are all Hot Wheels style: tiny by comparison. O, the jealousy.

So on Saturday, Nate and I went to “the big toy store” to get “the big Lightning McQueen.” He won’t be little forever, so I’m happy to indulge him while his biggest and best dreams still only cost twenty bucks.

We brought the big Lightning McQueen to his friend Peter’s house for a sleepover on Saturday night. The boys put a lot of miles on that car that night. Somehow they knew that one is not supposed to sleep at a sleepover. When I picked him up on Sunday morning, he was at least three hours short of sleep.

I had a hard time getting him strapped into his car seat, because he didn’t want to let go of his Lightning McQueen. We got on the highway and headed south, on our way to Sarah’s parents’ house and then to church. He flapped and flailed in the back seat, babbling about all the fun he had had with Peter, until suddenly the maple syrup wore off and he fell silent.

I looked in the rearview mirror. He was simply stunned with exhaustion, staring out the window with enormous eyes. The sun came out from behind the clouds and wrapped him in an ethereal glow. His beauty took my breath away.

I reached back and touched his ankle.

“I love you so much, Nate.”

“I… am Lightning McQueen.”