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Button, button! Who's got a button?

Jao loves "cahz":  truck cars, car cars, school bus cars; and most of all he loves cahz with buttons.

The other day he had three cahz lined up, side-by-side, each with three buttons on the roof, and had discovered that he could play a medley of emergency sounds:  every loud get-the-hell-out-of-our-way sound ever invented by a toy manufacturer.  "Twenty-seven!", he tried to say, but could not.  "Twenty-seven different combinations of shrieks, howls, and wails!"

More, if you add the buttons on the dishwasher.  It is rare that the dishwasher finishes its routines with the same intentions with which it began.

And, of course, he has not calculated the permutations and possibilities if he were not to push one of the buttons.  That has never occurred to him.  He has never considered not pushing a button. 

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