Sunday, August 03, 2008
Why does it always happen . . .
. . . that one kid brings home some junky dollar-toy from a birthday party favor bag like, oh, say a kazoo, for example, and plays with it for a few minutes and then for the next two weeks it turns up in all sorts of places around the house and finally I lay down the law and it ends up in the bottom of the toybox never to be played with again and so when I finally get around to cleaning out the toybox I throw it in the garbage [take a huge breath here] and then the very, very next day the boy’s brother brings home a duplicate of that very kazoo from another birthday party and suddenly kazoos are in fashion--in great demand, even--and boy #1 tears his room apart looking for the kazoo that is now sitting under banana peels in the dumpster and then there is weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth when he finds out the truth and the whining goes on for longer than the child every played with the thing in the first place? Huh? Huh? Yes, I’m talking to you. Tell me, why does that always happen?