Usually when my husband and son take an outing, they return with a new something-or-other kind of toy for T. Usually this toy is, say, a neonic noodle (you know, the obnoxious foamy things you take in kiddie pools and bang other kids on the head with), or a cheap glider that falls apart after the first flight, or a Matchbox type of car to add to the collection under the couch. Yesterday, however, was different (cue sinister The Omen theme music). Yesterday, my spouse and T returned with THIS (cue crescendo of The Omen theme music):
Not man, not elf, but Melf (I suppose) with a completely untrusworthy expression, sword, shield with terrifying coat of arms and hatchet (not pictured). Not to mention those bows and arrows. Into the house runs my son with this THING still in its package. “Pweeze, Mama!” he shouted, meaning open it immediately, Mama, or I will have a fit. Grrrrr, I thought as I smiled at my son and said, “Sure, baby, sure.” Grrrrrrrrrr.
Upon interrogating my husband in my nicest voice (so as not to alarm our child) the second he stepped across the threshold, his arms loaded in bags of groceries, his expression harried from his time in the food aisles where our son loves to run wild, I was informed that T had picked out the Melf, not my husband. “Babe. He wanted it. Badly.” Arrrrrrgh! I thought, handing the Melf to my delighted child, who played with it for about 5 minutes, then discarded it to the train table. To my relief, bows/arrows/medieval weaponry are either too complicated or foreign or boring for him. At 2 years and 3/4, he doesn’t play with action figures yet, it’s true. Mostly he plays with the Sodor trains, his dirt trucks, his Diego submarine, his stuffed animal collection, his cars, cars, cars. Plus, HE LIKES READING BOOKS WITH HIS PARENTS. Whew. My baby! He still is one! Sort of! Tears in my eyes, I watched T bang out the back door to run and play on the lawn in the cool, glorious evening. I quickly made off with the Melf, tossing him and his dastardly tools in a dark cupboard until after T’s bedtime, when I took these photographs and numbed, then overpowered and utterly conquered the pathetic Melf with my Toshiba’s power thingy (cue Stars Wars theme music).
Yes, that’s right: With my Toshiba’s power thingy (cue Chariots Of Fire theme music).
And then I put the Melf deep, deep in the Goodwill pile in the garage—but only because tossing him in the trash seemed wasteful and I wasn’t sure if he was recyclable. The Melf may live to see another day, but hopefully not with my child—at least not for a long, long time—which in toddler-time probably means next week. Arrrrrrgh! (cue Shock The Monkey by Peter Gabriel)