And Then There Were Two?

Little Mister has an imaginary friend.

I should probably back up and give you a little background about this kid. Like any two-year-old, he goes through periods of intense obsession with random objects. Guitars, for example. For months, Small Fry's entire universe rotated around his 3 toy guitars (and the boob, but by that point mostly guitars). The first words out of his mouth in the morning were "Get guitars!", and he would howl like only a toddler can if Daddy or I didn't pop right up out of bed and walk him to where he put the guitars, lovingly, down to sleep the night before. He carried one of his precious guitars everywhere - and I do mean EVERYWHERE. When one of the three wasn't available, any reasonably guitar-shaped object would do, up to and including a metal over-the-door wreath holder I had the poor judgement to let him hold in the car one October afternoon. Let's just say that ended with frazzled sweating Mommy pulling over to the shoulder of a busy freeway, fully extending and nearly dislocating her arm, and wrestling it free from his death grip of fury before he busted out a window.

Good times, good times.

So the current obsession here is construction equipment. My God, I never thought there was so much to learn about steamrollers and dump trucks and motor graders and yeah. That boy stuff I don't understand. In particular, Snoog is fixated on one piece of heavy machinery: the backhoe. The backhoe loader AND the excavator. Don't for one minute think my son can't crank those words right out, too, like this is his job. Disconcerting, but I'm used to it.

He takes his little arm, and holds it "like a backhoe" and makes the appropriate noises. Alternately, he'll tell you it's digging in the dirt, or scooping the dirt, or digging a big hole. From sunup to sundown (son up to son down?). Okay, cool. You're a boy. I'm told you do this, partner. But today his love for all things backhoe-y reached a whole new level of "now what?".
He ate, he played "soccer", he drove his cars, he handed out directions left and right, and it became clear:

Buddy's imaginary friend is a backhoe.

And because this is the funniest thing ever, since we expected him to introduce us to a bear, or a goat, or something ELSE, we are having one hell of a time maintaining composure.