Attacked by an Evil Tater…

Even from afar, it appears that SB and his toys can still be dangerous.   He’s at his papa’s this weekend, so in between lying on the couch in full slug mode, I tidy up the house so that I can at least pretend I was marginally productive.  This usually means putting thousands of tiny little pieces of Legos (why, WHY?) in their boxes, doing 20 or 30 loads of laundry, etc.  

Yesterday I was putting away all the parts to Darth Tater (again, why???) and somehow stepped on the little light saber and cut my foot.  Blood and everything, and it was a good thing SB wasn’t here because I didn’t even know I could swear like that.

The irony of all this is I had just finished talking to SB about not playing with “fighting toys”, and survived the cod red nuclear meltdown after confiscating his Ninja Turtles until he’s older.

Then I was brutally attacked by a potato’s light sword.  

Conspiracy?  Hmm.

A Boy and his Toys

Our house is filled with toys – some good, and some that make me want to rip out my hair.  Boy toys: cars, trucks, trains, and an entire fleet of emergency response vehicles.  Most of the time our house looks like a FEMA command center, or a toy store that was hit by an earthquake right before the hurricane tore it apart.  In other words, messy.
The good toys are the quiet ones that don’t break in the first five minutes SB (small boy) tears into them, and they encourage creativity, imagination, blah blah blah. 
Oh, but the bad toys…I’m convinced that somewhere, in a little room with no windows, some evil person who hates parents is chuckling maniacally and designing very annoying toys. 
For instance – I once bought this little cat piano toy that looked pretty cool.  And it was, until we actually turned it on.  I think the employees at the company that made this must have had a contest to create the most annoying sounds in the world, and the winning noise was installed inside this damned cat piano.  And naturally SB LOVED, LOVED, LOVED it. 
Then there was the needy, neurotic stuffed talking puppy.  This one actually gave me the creeps – it was like a weird obsessive stalker toy.  It kept saying, “hug me” and “I love you SO MUCH”.  I was convinced that it was just a matter of time before it crept up the stairs at night and smothered us with puppy love while we were sleeping.  
And the worst part of all?  The packaging.  What the HELL are they thinking?  I’ve learned never to promise SB that I’ll give him his new toy outside of Target or wherever we are, since I rarely carry around a welding torch and dynamite.  Are the toy makers worried that a gang of rogue gorillas is going to trample the boxes?  Do they really need 6,000 wires, tape, and staples to secure one stupid $2.99 dump truck in a box?  I just don’t get it.
Does anyone want to start new business with me?  Non-annoying toys that – get this – you can actually remove from the box within five minutes.  Let me know.  And feel free to share your toy horror stories, there has to be a lot of them out there!