O has an addiction. It is bad. I mean- dragging a crying kid from the store bad.
And he has a dealer- it is his Nana.
Seriously.
She has been funding this addiction for probably a year and a half or so. We warn her. We kindly ask her to stop. But she can’t, she is an enabler. I justify it by saying that sometimes he earns the fix- as a reward for good behavior. And at times, when we are in a hurry and need to get through we enable to. He sleeps with them, bathes with them, eats with them, and the sneaky little man stashes them away everywhere (including his backpack in hopes to get them past me and into preschool).
What, you ask, is his problem?
Yep.
Squishy toys.
Cheap, gross, and truly squishy- squishy toys.
They collect anything & everything- because they are rubbery and sometimes get sticky. So beagle that sheds like pigpin- hair all over the toys. Sand from the sand box or goldfish- yep those too. And he wants to play with them in the sink all the time. (But I willingly give in to that- because it entertains him for hours- the above pictures are proof of what I find when ready to make dinner).
They are replicas of every type of dinosaur, animal, or insect possible. And then some that are just crazy and unnatural. And you can buy them from any type of vendor who sells toys for less than $3. So I cannot even let myself image what they are really filled with and how many recalls they have barely escaped. I routinely clean them with hot water and some bleach (if filling up the sink and letting them float around counts- cause I am not going to touch them if I can avoid it).
When I can’t handle the gross any longer- I throw them away or convince O to do it- but months down the road he will remember and ask about a specific toy. I have a conversation like this at least half a dozen times a week.
O: Where is my blue beaver (or blue octopus, or purple worm, etc)? From Toys R’ You (or Wal-Mart or the squishy store)? (His names- not mine).
R: We had to throw it away because it got yucky.
O: We have to go get a new one!
R: You do not need a new one- pick another one to play with.
O: Ok. We can eat lunch and then go get a new one.
How does he remember this stuff? And why am I the bad guy even when he decides on his own to throw one away? And how in the world are we going to break this addition to these forsaken toys?
We let him take them in the bath- just to avoid the fit that will happen if he cannot take a bath with some. And tonight- he put almost every single one of them in. Not a square-inch of water without a squishy toy floating in it. He must have 6 dozen of them (okay maybe not). You can’t wash the gross off of them. And so I have a wet kid with gross rubber squishy smell.
And you know what- next weekend he will get more. It always happens. Nana is a softy- “He was good”- blah blah blah. And we try not to ever correct her- because she is Nana. I try to make him leave them at her house. But last week- he had them all bagged up and ready to come home. First thing he asks when I walk in the door, with big puppy eyes- “Mommy (not MOM- like he yells 99% of the day)- Mommy, can I please take these home?” But I stood my ground. For like 5 seconds. When he wrapped his sneaky little arms around my neck and squeezes as he says “pleeeeaassee”? (Ok, I am soft too. But not like Nana.)
Imagine stepping on one in the middle of the night. They are cold. They are squishy. Enough said.
Long story short: I find other random things in my sink. Not all of them are interesting.
Just wondering what you find in yours?
*Rachel
www.sneakypillowjumper.com
