Back before the boys birthdays, the husband and I noticed that for the most part- they wanted to be playing with the same exact thing at the same exact time. Always. It NEVER failed. And due to wanting to play with the same thing at the same time, it made for fighting. A lot of fighting. A MADDENING amount of fighting and more toys moved out to the garage and forgotten about than I can count because I was fucking sick of saying “JUST SHARE IT!” and being completely ignored.
We came up with the genius idea that instead of people getting the boys different toys.. everyone should just get them the SAME DAMN THING. How can kids fight over something if they each have one? Same color. Same style. Same size. Same EVERYTHING. While we realized that kids aren’t logical, we figured it would cut down on the bitching immensely, and therefore save us a lot of headaches, gray hairs, and threats to sell the children on Craigslist or give them away to the gypsies.
And for once, SHOCKER, people listened. Two of everything- and for once, it didn’t backfire on us…. but it most certainly has made for some… interesting situations. To say the least.
One of the boys’ favorite double gifts just so happens to be a magna-doodle like contraption, but instead of the magna part- it comes with a glow-stick like thing that makes a very short lived glow trail on the pad. You’d think with today’s technology they could make it last longer than 5 seconds, but the kids fucking love the stupid thing so how can I complain?
While they don’t fight over the pads themselves, they’ve had knock-down-drag-outs over the glow pens. And not to draw on the pad with them, but to run the fuck around like a bunch of drugged up teenagers attempting to blind me by shining them into my eyes as they speed past. Glorified glow-sticks. Purple ones. That if shined directly into your cornea will make you feel as if it is going to burn, shrivel, and crumble away. I must say at least 5 times in a day “DON’T SHINE THAT IN MY EYES, I WILL GO BLIND!”
Kids will be kids. They don’t listen. Or they don’t care. Probably both.
The winner of the tug of war over obnoxious purple glow stick is generally Holden. Not because he is louder (he wishes) but because he is bigger and therefore can overpower his little brother.
It’s even gotten to the point where he takes them and hides them so that NO ONE can play with them except for him. Currently, I only know where one of them is.
I am thinking these toys may end up adding to the pile of the ones moved to the garage because I either find them too annoying, they have attempted to kill me on multiple occasions (YES, they plot against us), or i’m sick of the fighting- all because of the other night.
We put the kids to bed like any other night, came downstairs, and proceeded to do whatever the fuck it is we do once we become childless (DON’T BE DIRTY! NOT that)
About an hour or so goes by when I hear a thump come from upstairs, and not the usual “ugh the kid is out of bed again” kind of thump. It sounded different.
Now, I know i’m big on the paranormal, so I will admit that immediately my mind went to some kind of other-worldly influence. It wouldn’t be the first time.
What, you may ask, did I do? I sent THOMAS upstairs. No way am I coming face to face with some demonic toy or creepy entity (an by creepy entity it COULD mean a child in the dark. They are scary. Admit it)
What, you may ask, did he find?
A lit up purple fucking glowstick on the floor next to Holden’s bed.
An hour later, another thump? The second glowstick hit the floor.
He did NOT go to bed with glowsticks in hand, but somehow, sometime, some way, in the dark he got up and found them and what? Decided to have a rave with his drugged out, bad influence stuffed animals?
And here, I thought only the toys that made noise were the annoying ones.
Perhaps I will remove the batteries and claim the things are broken- although i’m beginning to wonder how much longer that lie will be effective.
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