Keaton was given his pinewood derby car two weeks before The Big Day. For those two weeks, Keaton fretted over the car. He was sure that it was one week away, instead of two weeks away, and that he was going to be the only one to miss it, all because we didn't help him with his car early enough.
The week before the derby, Keaton and The Husband spent many hours out in the freezing cold garage, trying to form the car into a shape worth being proud of. Because we have zero woodworking tools, this was a challenge. However, things finally got chipped away enough to merit sandpaper. It was Keaton's job to sand away at his car until it was smooth as silk. Once finished with that, it was time to paint it.
Keaton wanted an exclusively white car. No colors. No glitter. No racing stripes along the side. Just white. He painted it himself, and all was good.
The morning of the pinewood derby, Keaton was more excited than ever. He proudly brought up his car to be weighed, and displayed it alongside the other cars with pride and exuberance. Keaton's car was nicknamed "The Ghost Car", "Whitey", and a few other ones I can't remember.
He won a few races. Two, I think. Enough to make him proud. In the car, on the way home, Kolby asked him if he won. "Nah. I wasn't the winner, but my car did win some races...about 4 or 5 of them." When we got home, he was talking with his dad, and I heard him say "Wow. That was some race! I won, like, 8 or 10 races!"
Seeing the need to talk about "exaggeration", I corrected him, and told him that his two races were a fantastic accomplishment.