AJ suddenly loves Matchbox cars. Never mind that he's had some of them for two years, playing with them - on average - maybe once every couple months. Now they're the coolest thing since... pirates and knights (I needed a more age/gender appropriate analogy than "sliced bread.")
Race them. Crash them. Attack them with dinosaurs. He's even got his sister in on the action. For this version of the game, the cars have to race down the ramp and try to avoid being eaten by the dinorsaur.
Of course, since Sydney is a girl and is only a preschooler, she couldn't possibly understand the intricacies of the game and the fine art of lining up the cars just right, according to AJ's very exacting standards. All it took was the threat that I was going upstairs, which meant Sydney would want to follow, ("What?" Screamed AJ's thought process, "but that would mean I'm downstairs by myself. I'm not brave enough, though I'll never admit it, to play downstairs by myself!") and suddenly AJ was able to adapt the game so both he and Sydney could have fun.
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