My two teenagers barely speak to each other. They have very little in common, and don't really do much to acknowledge each other (other than the nastygram for her borther dd left in the upstairs bathroom, on "how to share a bathroom with a girl" -- that's for another day).
When they were little, they used to play together all the time. I went in their room one day when they were probably 3 and 4 and there they were, sitting on the bed, intently studying a map that they'd found somewhere. When I asked what they were doing, they informed me, quite seriously, that they were playing "map where we're goin'." Turned out that they had made up a game wehre they imagined a place, looked at the map on how to get there, then narrated the whole trip.
I got to hear how they got to Toys R Us: what the drive was like, what they looked at in the aisles of the store, and what they brought home with them. They went into great detail on what everything looked like, "did you see...", back and forth, on and on. It was adorable.
I've tried to teach each of the kids how to read a map, so they learn to navigate properly. Hubby's version of navigating is studying maps, cause he loves them, then telling me what exit I needed, about half a mile after I passed it. DS17 once was able to navigate me through downtown Chicago, on 4th of July weekend: "turn left, Mom. Go right. Elvis."
What in the world?
Turned out that yep, Elvis was standing on the corner of Michigan and something, in a white fringed jumpsuit. Never mind that he'd been dead for 15 years at that point -- we saw Elvis, and when that happens, you know you aren't in Indianapolis anymore.
Nowadays, they are both driving, and learning how to navigate around town by themselves. They're not doing a bad job, either. Must be all that map reading, at a tender age.
And so, in honor of my darling children, two ships who pass in the bathroom, and their "map where we're goin'" days, here is a great op art skirt, from Vintage Vagabond Wear and Wares.