There It GoesJanuary 18, 2010 at 4:53 pm | Posted in Giggles | 1 Comment
My toy philosophy is pretty simple: If it beeps, roars, talks, cries on its own, plays music, lights up, or eats batteries for breakfast, no. OK, since Lollipop is nearby and I need to mind my manners, no thank you. Sure, these toys are fine, even fun. But my sanity requires that I keep them out of my house. As much as I can.
Thomas the Who?
Sometimes, the Toy Gods like to laugh at me. At a friend’s house recently, Giggles made a beeline for the battery-powered Thomas the Train engines. He spent three hours flicking the on-off switches, watching the trains make tracks on the carpet, jumping and clapping as he yelled, “There it goes! There it goes!” My friend and I spent three hours putting ejected batteries back in, freeing stuck wheels, and averting rail disasters as train cars headed for the stairs. (We may have gotten to say hello to each other. I can’t remember.)
Back to the Future
Back home, in our playroom from the Dark Ages, Giggles unearthed a tiny blue train car. He set it on the carpet. He looked at it. “There it goes!” he said. He waited. “There it goes?” a little plaintive this time. He waited some more. He looked at me. “Broken,” he said. “No, you just have to push it,” I said, rolling it across the floor using good old-fashioned elbow grease.
He looked at me. He looked at the train. He picked it up. And proceeded to push every circle, square, wheel, button-like object on the train, as if to find the magic “on” switch. He put it down. “Broken.” Clearly, we had some work to do.
And work — well, play, really — we have. I’ve pulled out all the matchbox cars, the fire trucks, the doll stroller. We’ve pushed them with our hands. We’ve pushed them into walls. We’ve pushed them into the dog. “There it goes!” Giggles says now, loudly, proudly, with glee.
In fact, everything goes. Giggles pushes a Tupperware dish full of spoons through the kitchen. “There it goes!” He pulls his favorite board books off the shelf and smiles when they “thunk” loudly on the floor. “There it goes!” He watches Lollipop play hopscotch on the throw pillows. “There it goes!” Riding in the car he spots tractors, big rigs, bikes, mail trucks, firetrucks, flocks of geese: “There it goes!”
And when we leave a battery-operated toy behind after a few fun hours at friends’ houses, that’s my refrain, too. Yes, “There it goes.” Whew.