Mr. Potato Head Massacre
Several years ago, we went to Downtown Disney around Christmas time which is one of my favorite things to do. This is before we had Andrew and really before we were even thinking about kids but we went into the giant toy store anyway. They had this humongous display of Mr. Potato head parts. You could buy a box for about 20 bucks and stuff it with as many parts at it would hold from the giant potato head buffet.
Naturally I wanted to get my money worth so my brother and I spent 30 minutes off in the corner of the store packing the box to the point where it may well have been close to spontaneous combustion. The woman gave me an annoyed look at the check out– sweet vindication from getting my money’s worth out of Disney! Haha!
Well of course I got it home and dressed up the potato head and thought, “now what”? Yeah, that’s what happens when adults buy toys. I put all the pieces in a basket on the shelf in our bedroom which is where it sat until now.
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I love the layout of our home. Except now that we’ve lived here 4.5 years I’ve started to notice some of the quirks. For example, I’m certain that whoever designed the master bathroom did not have children. This is because there is no door on the master bathroom. Yes, the room for the toilet has a door but the shower and bathtub are open to the bedroom. When Andrew was tiny he sat in his bouncy seat while we showered or got dressed. Then as he outgrew the bouncy seat we moved the jumper into the bathroom. But now that he’s 15 months old and weighs 25 pounds he has outgrown all his containment devices. We are left to allow him to roam free or scream his head off in the crib. We baby proofed the room and went for the scream free option.
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So you may see where I’m going with this excessively and inappropriately long story.
Andrew discovered the Mr. Potato Head basket and all the parts. He waltzes over to the basket as though it was put there for him. And maybe on some level it was, even though I didn’t know that several years ago.
He has his favorite parts. Noses and eyes, various hats, arms, lips and glasses. He carries them around the house and they have slowly infiltrated every room, every crevice, every drawer or cabinet. Only it is just a part or two here or there. I find eyeballs on the stair case and an arm in my bedside table. It is like a twisted toy massacre as I find body parts all over my house. I doubt we’ll ever find where he’s hidden them all until we move out and even then we very well may leave a part or two behind. It’s just a good thing that all those years ago, I spent that quality time ensuring that I fit every single possible piece in that box so that I could now provide endless hours of entertainment for my son 🙂
What a wonderful story!