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The Writing Mother

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Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Heather Makes a Mistake... or Toys Not to Buy Your Child if You Want Him to Stay the Sweet Little Boy He Is.

My intentions were good. Honestly they were. M., being three and three months, has a G.I. Joe thing going on right now. He likes planes and big trucks, army guys and flags. No biggie. So as a present for being a good boy at the dentist today for his first check up, we stopped at the Dollar Store for some cheap-o toys. He picked out a few little things... some army men, a tank, a helicopter, a plane, a boat. A regular ol' Canadian Army for $7.00. (Well, it would be just like the Canadian army, except I think we have more tanks than they do now)

(Side note: We Canadians sent some of our military over to help out the US in the middle east, but after the exchange rate all they got was a canoe with a mountie and a dog sled... har har.)

So in my living room now we have all arms of the military covered, we have the navy (currently resting at harbour in the bathtub), the army, and the air force. And along with them came a dozen or so army dudes.

I envisioned me showing my son all about how the army guys protect the good people from the bad people, how they helped stop fights and protected Winnie the Pooh and Tigger - who had been drafted as innocent civilians.

What did I get?

I have the freaking Washington sniper in my living room, running around and shooting anything that looks like it might move. The fan is particularly offensive since he runs and falls down and then shoots into the air at it. A regular commando here.

Where did he learn this? I've never even used the word gun (as evidenced by the fact that he's "shooting with his shooter") let alone kept anything in this house that might resemble a toy gun.

I blame day care. He has to learn it there. Could be at his dad's house, though not likely. But if it's day care, then some parent has taught his or her child what a gun is, and that child has taught my innocent wee boy. "What are you pretending to be?" I asked. "I beein' a MAN" he said. Unh-huh.

Excuse me, I need to go put the Executioner to bed before he invades another country and pillages some villages.

Although... he is convinced that G.I. Joe, being the man that he is, does not pee his bed... I could work that angle at least.

  The Writing Mother
  posted at 7:57 PM
  1 comments



1 Comments:
At 1:00 AM, Blogger Kira said...

*snort*
Too funny. But I hate to tell you this, Dear, but it's not the kids at daycare. It's a boy thing. Good luck.

 

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