Dinosaurs and Army Men

I went shopping with a preset limit of what I could spend on Kade. If you go to his room and open the door, most likely toys will spill out. He's not wanting for anything, let me tell ya. So he only gets one hundred dollars worth of presents this year. The only thing he wants with all his heart is dinosaurs and army men.

Now if you have one of these boy creatures at home, you probably have already figured out where his mind is going with that one. But in case you don't have a boy, I'll tell you. I have every inclination that he will set the dinosaurs and army men up in an epic battle and use strategic moves that will put all the best RISK players to shame.

I had a toy gun/weapons and Playdoh ban that lasted all of two years. It's unrealistic to shroud your children against violent toys. I've tried. People still buy them for him... and to tell you the truth, even if they didn't, my son and his friend have been known to use the mop and broom as lightsabres. I don't mind, because it's good that the mop and broom get used for something around this house. Kids will figure out ways to have these epic battles. It must come with the y chromosome or something. It's genetically there in all males, whether they admit it or not.

So I bought him the army men and dinosaurs. When I went to check the prices, the dinosaurs were all of 88 cents each. Oh great! Now what I am supposed to spend the rest on?!

And so it was that I was looking at underwear for my son, when some mad shopper rammed into my ass. Which is not hard to do, given my recent ass expansion. But this mad shopper rammed it pretty damn hard, which made me turn around saying, "Heeeeeeeeeeeeey!" There stood my husband with a huge grin. Thanks, buttmunch.

Needless to say, I got him some crazy coo underwear. Which I plan on making Kade open first. For all you needlessly cruel parents, you know where I am going with this. I will adore the excited look on his face, make him open the underwear, watch his face fall in shock and misery. Then he will open up all the other presents, expecting to find the dinosaurs and army men, but they won't be there. So the disappointment will start to set in. And with each present on down the line it will be the same, until he has opened all of his presents. Right before he becomes too dejected, I will wonder if there isn't one more present. Then I will produce one more from a hiding spot and watch as his dashed hopes and dreams start to become alive again. And he will get his army men and dinosaurs.

But I'm sure all you other parents do this too. Right? Am I the only one that is cruel and evil about it? Eh oh well. It'll make him appreciate it more.

Anyway, to combat the violent gifts of years past, I decided to teach him that each life is precious. Even though we may play Cowboys and Indians, he has to understand that we don't condone violence as a way to solve our problems. And I have throughout the years, given him a bunch of little life's lessons. I let him watch the news coverage of September 11th, when he was only three years old. I explained it and watched as he shook his head in shame and disbelief right along with me. At four years of age, he truly learned what death meant and how it feels to lose a loved one. I have taught him not to destroy anthills, to leave the spiders alone, to generally empathize with everyone.

I may have gone overboard, which brings me to the Snail Story. It'll be tomorrow's entry (which meant that this entire entry is being used as a segue, nice huh?)

To Be Cont...