I need at this point to vent just a little bit.
A few readers, possibly only my Mother, may remember that a few weeks ago we went to the Transport Museum. While there, I bought the spud a toy in exchange for him completing a chart full of stars for doing something in particular. This toy was a bendy bus.
After a hard day's play, it went on top of the wardrobe to await the completion of the star chart and that thing has been up and down, up and down, on and off the top of that wardrobe for weeks. For quite a while now, however, it's been down. All the time. The spud, I am delighted to say, is now reliably performing a particular action. I admit, I am happy about that.
The trouble is that the cycle of taking away and giving back the bendy bus has meant that, like anything which is likely to disappear at any moment, it has achieved an aura of desirability which none of his other toys can match. Thus, teddies and bunnies and even Tigger and Lizzie Dog languish at his feet while the bendy bus, over a foot of hard plastic with pokey corners, slumbers gently beside him. Under his duvet. On its side like a sleeping puppy I am NOT kidding you.
Every night we take it out of his bed and put it on the floor so he won't bruise himself or crush it and every morning he wakes up wailing 'MY BUS MY BUS MY BENDY BUS WHERE'S MY BENDY... oohhh, I got it!'. He carries it in with him when he wakes us up for a cuddle in the morning. He takes it to the toilet and puts it carefully down before having a wee. It perches on the side of the bath while he plashes around with his bubbles. He reluctantly leaves it behind in the mornings with a small sob and, apparently, he talks about it all day.
I am SO SICK of the bendy bus. I am sick of hearing about it, fixing the tyres, playing with it, taking it out of his bed, placating him when he breaks a bit of it, listening to its little friction motor going on and on and on, tripping over it, sitting on it, talking about how Einstein has a red one but Charlie has a blue one and fielding requests to go back to the transport museum to buy a little one; but mainly, I am sick of him rabbiting on and on and on and on and on and on about it.
I am sick of the bendy bus. I confess, I am, I truly truly am. Damnable contraption.
I am sick of the bendy bus but I will probably buy him a little one for his Christmas stocking because I love him THAT much.
I should just buy myself a whipping post at the same time. Clearly, I love my son, but I must hate myself.
.
14 comments:
Ahhh, sweet vengeance. We have a photo of you fast asleep with every doll or raggedy toy bear, piglet or kangeroo on your pillow, and they ALL had to be in the same place, every night. But you slept peacefully and that sweetie is the payoff. With a glass of wine and a happy sigh.
Mum
Jonathan has a couple toys like this too. Luckily he hasn't seemed to have gotten too stuck on just one thing....not yet anyhow! We do it because we love them!
Ahhhh 'spoken' like a real mum :) N3S sleeps with all sorts of junk in his bed and my mum says I did too, including orange peels, books and sea shells apparently! But, she's old y'ano and that was a long time ago. I expect she's a bit confused...;)
Dear Author notes-inside-my-head.blogspot.com !
In it something is also I think, what is it good idea.
Oh those high-pitched shrieks for that one coveted item that makes you want to stick a pencil in your ear... all the time going as fast as you can to comply.
My oldest two added a dash of humiliation to the mix as my son's love was a large red metal fire truck, complete with swivel cab and ladders... unfortunately when he screamed for his truck... he couldn't pronounce the "tr" sound and substituted the "f" sound. Of course the day came, when riding high on his dad's shoulders, he saw his truck on display at the local Woolworths Store and began screaming for it.
Followed 9 years later by a little girl who refused to give up her pacifier until she was nearly three. In the interest of speedy communications... she just dropped the word ending and would scream "Fire".
My two both eschew cuddly toys for cars, trucks, light sabres, batman figures in bed. You know, come Christmas he will suddently drop the bendy bus best friend and be on to the next. x
The softness of the toy does not mitigate circumstances when you have to drive back to the last camp ground stayed at during your x-country trip all the while listening to to lad in the car seat cry piteously that someone surely will have stolen Bobby Bear. And then when you get there he - Bobby - turns out to have been in the tent trailer tucked up in bed all along.
At least you know where the #$%#@!@$# bendy bus is!
Hey what's up there's no secret code to play with????
Oh and Mum the snapshot of me shows that I wore very fetching curlers to bed with my mound of stuffies. Thought you'd enjoy that vision!
PS Thanks for card....... we are terrible for not doing that but do appreciate each one we receive!
We now return you to your regularly scheduled conversation with Sparx....
Mum - actually I think of you whenever he stacks his toys up on his pillow... they all do have to be just so...
Lisa - yes, this is the first real obsession although we've had many smaller ones. Quite sweet really though, let's face it.
DJ - orange peels and sea shells!!! I love it!
Anonymous... ohhhKAY...
@eloh - that is brilliant... Actually Charlie said 'Fuck' for 'Fork' for ages which always made me wet myself in restaurants trying not to laugh...
Brit - yes, I'm sure that's true... we're not into action figures yet but it's just a matter of time...
thomasenaalicia - you too!
Helen - I feel your pain from here and now even though that was surely many years ago that bobby bear went walkaboutss... and no worries on the cards, we're late this year and it nearly didn't happen... and as you can see, not as funny as previous attempts but at least it's done. Sigh.
actually I believe that technically Bobby Bear went sleep abouts.
and it was Mum's card I was thanking for - though I've heard yours is in the post nudge nudge wink wink
We've allowed Rahul, as a very special favour, to have a toy next to his bed. (We couldn't have stopped him but he's not to know that.) The deal being that the toy has to be on the floor next to the bed or else it's banished to the toy box. Maybe you can strike a similar deal?
And me, I'm sick of his whole houseful of toys and I'm even sicker of his hordes of adoring grandparents and aunts and uncles who keep sending him more. So.
I must add -- the toy on floor rule was not because I was afraid he'd poke himself. The dratted child would play with the toy if it stayed in his bed. One school night he managed to push back his sleep time by well over an hour that way.
I tell myself, just wait till my grandkids teach him what's what. ;)
Helen - oops! Sorry to have interrupted your convo with Mum! Our card is in fact on its way however...
Sue - you made me laugh a lot... that's what Mum always said: "Just wait until you have children of your own!".
I too am sick of the toys, although Charlie doesn't have that many. More than enough mind you. And yes, he does play in bed but I've found if we don't let him, he'll just get up and play on the floor with the lights on... if he plays in bed then at least he drifts off eventually. You are good though, only one toy and on the floor... Charlie is up to 8 cuddly toys in his bed every night now... and the bloody bus.
hi, sparx
my grandson is besotted with his bear - the poor thing (the bear, that is) has had several major surgeries just to keep him around. he has literally had the stuffing knocked out! fortunately, the bear is the only bed companion as yet, but he is absolutely essential - we haven't had it happen (it's just a matter of time, surely?), but one of these days the bear is going to be left at nana's when baby goes home, or at home when he goes to nana's.
have a wonder-full, fun filled christmas with your little one.
ps hope you've bought the miniature!
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