Eli likes to drive our car. In order for that to be a safe playtime, I make sure the driver's side window is halfway down, Eli has keys that do not include the actual key to the car, the emergency brake is on, the car is in the garage, the garage door is shut, and the garage door opener is on the roof of the car. Only then is Eli allowed to play in the car, and only then am I comfortable enough to be in the kitchen for 45 seconds or less before checking in on him.
Last week, while Eli was playing in the car, I went inside to grab his shoes for a walk. When I walked back to the garage, the garage door was opening.
I was shocked. I pointed to the roof of the car. "But the garage door opener is on the roof."
Eli smiled broadly and stuck his hand, clutching the opener in his fist, out the halfway-opened window. Then he pointed to the roof and nodded.
"But how did you reach the opener, Eli!?!? It was on the roof of the car!"
Eli furrowed his brow. He looked at the opener. He looked confused.
Then he smiled and said: "Hands."
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