My life revolves around yellow.

So, if you know me, you know I love yellow. I think it started with my obsession with rubber ducks, but now its evolved into a general love for the color and all its happy, positive vibes. And I’m picky about my yellow. I don’t do mustard or citron. It has to be creamy, dreamy yellow.

My son has picked this up. I didn’t brain-wash him into the obsession, but he just loves all things yellow.

Between that and his obsession with cars, we have a yellow car issue we’re dealing with.

We own every yellow hot wheel car ever made, I think. We also own just about every hot wheel car that has traces of yellow on it (for when we can’t locate a pure yellow one on the rack). My son can spot a yellow car ANYWHERE. I’ve been coerced into taking many a detour just so we can drive past the yellow cars in our neighborhood.

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Heaven help any kid who tries to “share” his yellow cars. Heaven help any kid who wants to use the yellow car at the San Antonio Do-Seum. This kid has a problem.

I kind of hope he never grows out of it. Though I’m definitely not buying him a yellow car when he’s 16.

….Who am I kidding. I’d totally be down with that. I’d probably trade my mini-van for his sweet yellow ride.

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