Chuck’s proximity displacement theory of toys: How much your child desires a certain plaything will be proportional to the number of the toys that must be thrown out onto the floor to reach it in the toy box.

In order to make clean-up time a breeze at our house, my wife came up with the idea of purchasing a very large plastic washtub into which the children could consolidate their toys when they were so inclined. Instead, the washtub is mostly used by my older children as an “escape capsule” in which they send our youngest down the stairs. However, once a day Connie hauls the huge bucket back up the stairs and plunks it down on top of the pile of multi-colored plastic that we euphemistically call “the toy room,” then stands there threatening the children with a large stick until all of the toys are placed into the “vat o’ fun” and we can begin to see the floor again.

It never fails that the moment the kids get finished, some toy in the bottom of the pail starts wailing, or singing, or saying “Come out with your hands up!” in a very authoritative voice. Then, it won’t quit. One might be tempted to aim a swift kick at the barrel to shush the offending toy, however, that would certainly set off a cacophony of digital sounds saying things like “I want bottle!” and “To infinity and beyond!” This will keep up until either the kids dump the pail to give poor Nathan another ride or the batteries on “Bedwetting Baby” run out.

In the latter case, it can be quite an unnerving experience to be shuffling down the hallway in the middle of the night toward the bathroom, and hearing a muffled voice that sounds just like James Earl Jones chanting slowly from the direction of the toy room, “Mommy, I need a diaper!”

Once someone that I must have offended without knowing it gave Nathan one of those chew toy things that babies slobber on when their teeth are coming in. In this case, it also had a button on the top that would make the toy play a little song. After weeks of abuse at the mouth of Nate, it became stuck playing it’s song non-stop in the back of the suburban. It was under the baby seat, so the song went unnoticed at first. Then, my wife became convinced that there was something wrong with the truck’s engine. I thought she was losing it, until finally I began to notice it too, a very faint, tinny sounding tune that I think was the toy’s way of saying “please kill me.” Still, we couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. It began to really bother me as I caught myself humming the tune at work, and had to pound my head repeatedly on the computer keyboard to make it go away.

A couple of days later, Connie was taking some fellow church members to a concert, and one of them, sitting in the back, moved the baby seat and discovered the toy, which was still singing. He tried shaking it, whacking it on the seat, and pounding it with his fist, to no avail. Finally, they resorted to hanging it outside on the truck’s antenna. Still it went on. I considered sending it to NASA, figuring they’d like to get hold of whatever battery technology the Chinese had employed in building the incredibly long lived gadget.

Finally, I did the only responsible thing, at church the next Sunday, I slipped it under the seat of my buddy’s minivan when he wasn’t looking.

-- chuck in md (woah@mission4me.com), February 13, 2002

Answers

Have you ever considered writing a book?

We had one of those never-ending toys too - my brother-in-law's mother gave it to my oldest for his birthday one year. It developed the "I'll play when I take a notion" attitude after being likewise slobbered on for an ongoing length of time. I had left it at my sister's house, because up until a few months ago, I worked there part-time also (home-based business); it was rather disconcerting to be talking on the phone and have it start playing (rather loudly)! I am sure we had more than one customer think we were nuts!

We finally waited until Mitchell wasn't looking and tossed it after it scared the daylights out of my sister by deciding to play in the middle of the night one night - she thought the boogie man was after her!

-- Christine in OK (cljford@mmcable.com), February 13, 2002.

Thats hilarious and so very true, Chuck. Items showing up unexpectantly has taught my wife and I some interesting life skills. I still am looking for some answer that will at least minimize 'toy clutter' in our home.

Another thing that happens here is what percentage of toys will dad step on / trip over during his night excursions thru the house in the dark? I'm pretty good, the soles of my feet bear witness to some interesting color hues from unexpected collisions.

My son is especially adept at leaving his tricycle or a handy stool near an entrance to a room so that he can turn the lights and room ceiling fans on and off at will. When dear ol' dad comes into a dark room, dad has learned the hard way to feel near the floor before walking in. I pitched over a couple of times before I learned this survival technique. Kids are great, but sometimes . . .

-- j.r. guerra in s. tx. (jrguerra@boultinghousesimpson.com), February 13, 2002.

My granddaughter's favorite toy this week is an electronic cash register....ever try watching JAG while a very loud KER-CHING! KER-CHING! KER-CHING! is going off every 3 seconds? Unlike some people, I am not oblivious to all while watching tv.

I went into a storage room this morning to hunt for something I needed and stumbled against a large bag of toys I had hidden from my granddaughter. Immediately a loud "WAAH!! WAAH!! WAAH!!" started up and would not shut up till I fished through the bag of toys and beat the dolly intercom to death. Now I remember why I'm hiding that particular bag of toys.

-- Lenette in OR (kigervixen@webtv.net), February 13, 2002.

That is too funny!! I read it to my children, and one of them asked if it was a true story. haha. I told them, it had to be! We once had a "baby bird" that would play music when you jostled it. That thing drove us crazy on long trips because, well, the van was always jostling!

Who else has stepped on a Tickle-me-Elmo or Talking TeleTubby when checking on the children at night? That'll make you jump!;)

-- mary (marylgarcia@aol.com), February 13, 2002.

Ah, fond memories.....28 years ago, I was driven temporarily insane by a doll that my mother had given to Amy. It was a "Mrs. Beasley" doll, (whomever SHE was). It had a pink outfit on with white polka dots, fake eyeglasses and a pull string in its' back. When the string was pulled, the doll "said" things. She said things in the most demanding, whining,obnoxious tone ever uttered by a toy. Amy pulled the string alot, day and night, rather incessantly. The only phrase that I can recall after all these years was, "I WANNA NOTHER DRINK OF WATER"..over and over and over again. I couldn't help myself...I prayed for the thing to break, but like Chuck's teething ring from you-know-where, it just kept on whining. So, one night I waited for Amy to go to sleep, tiptoed into her room and slowly took Mrs. Beasley away from her. In the kitchen, I had a lovely pair of shears....one snip and the dolls voice became no more. I almost felt guilty when Amy woke in the morning and found the doll silent. One day last year I confessed to my now 30 year old daughter what had really happened to Mrs. Beasley, and if she didn't forgive me, I would go right out and buy my grandson a nice drum made of some tensile-strength material which could sustain any direct hit. I was immediately forgiven.....I think.

-- lesley (martchas@bellsouth.net), February 14, 2002.

Chuck, thanks for a great story and a wonderful laugh. But reckon a dad could long for those days with teens who love loud, hard music? Fortunately, my two are fairly balanced on the subject.

-- Randal in Brazil (randal@onebox.com), February 14, 2002.

Chuck -- you had me rolling! I couldn't help but remember our move this past fall. Everything had been packed and the kids and I left, leaving the packing of the truck to a devoted friend and the moving crew. The stuff was moved to my SIL and BIL's basement, seemingly without incident. However, my SIL told me a few days after the stuff arrived that something was weird about our stuff. When she went to the freezer in the basement, she heard noises. She wondered if a neighborhood cat or something had gotten packed. We couldn't find anything, however, and dismissed it as my SIL being...well, odd.

When the house was ready to move into in September, we hired a moving van and DH twisted a few arms at work to get "volunteers" to help move into the new house. The van came, they loaded, and drove to the new house. We have one friend, a very close family friend, who is disabled and couldn't help in the actual lifting and carrying, so he was dispatched to organize the removal of things from the van in an organized manner.

Apparently, I now owe him several free meals, because he had to spend two full hours with the sound of my elder son's talking robot alternately playing an INCREDIBLY annoying little tune (which he has been caught at work humming!) and reaching for his cel phone, as one of the noises the robot makes is a cel phone ringing! The really annoying thing, apparently, was not being able to find the box the robot was in to get it out of the truck!

The truly amazing part is that this seems to have been happening for the full three months the thing was in storage! When the robot was finally unpacked, the noise it makes is rather slow and drawn out. My son's explanation? Apparently ROBO was tired from the move!

-- Tracy (trimmer31@hotmail.com), February 15, 2002.