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Jay Currie

One Damn Thing After Another









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3/11/2005

Toys...

OVER THE WEEKEND, our five-year-old had a friend come by. Friends have visited Joe other times, too, and I have found out about a mysterious five-year-old's ritual. When you visit somebody else's house, you go to your pal's room and you wreck everything. Just pull it apart by the double handfuls. I don't believe our Joe is immune from the ritual. He does it himself when he visits his friends' quarters. He doesn't do it to his own room alone, but abroad -- that's a free fire zone for the toddler platoons.

The next day, or the day after, you go upstairs and find out why your child doesn't want to go to bed in his own room anymore. He can't get to his bed, the floor is so riddled with trippers-up and traps, like mini-munitions designed to score his feet (which are always bare, with socks and shoes left just about anywhere). A five-year old cannot even understand the problem. It just makes him sad and confused.
the american spectator
Lawrence Henry knows of which he speaks. So do I. With the best intentions in the world the proliferation of unused toys continues at our house. We figured that moving to an island where there was a garage sale once a month and a thrift store open two hours a week would stem the tide...It didn't.

What it has done is redefined the idea "toy". Sam, our four year old, is just a tiny bit tool obsessed. he has his own subscription to the Lee Valley catalogue. Which is ideal as he now has a complete collection of cutout tools - he cuts out the pictures, glues the rough cut to cardboard and then trims it. He'll ace scissors in kindergarten. If he can't find what he wants - Lee Valley does not stock power tools and what's a tool kit without a nail gun? - he hops online and googles what he needs. Dowloads it, prints it out, cuts, pastes, cuts again. We are overrun.

Craft or obsession....you decide.