A few months ago, the Kid wanted to order a box of a hundred tiny plastic Pokemon from Amazon. (Pokemen? Pokemons? I'm not sure about the plural.) While I think it's a bit silly, these little guys are apparently a commodity amongst the first graders at his school. And he had his own money, so...I mean, I'm sure he would think it's silly that I bought three pairs of sandals at the Target shoe sale this week, but that's part of the point of having your own money, right? You can be a little silly with it sometimes.
So, I dutifully took his money and helped him make the order.
And now there are a hundred Pokemon. In my house. All over my house. Everyday.
Yes, he has a place to keep them. Yes, I've threatened to throw them away if they are not in said place. ("If I find these out on the floor one more time.....") But so far those threats have been empty, because it's not like he's not trying to keep them picked up. It's just that they spread out too fast for him to keep track of them. There are always a few that get kicked to the side or spirited off by his sister or left on a shelf or a table or a countertop or in my bed or on the back of the toilet.... And I have trouble putting the hammer down when he's really making an earnest effort.
My theory is that they can actually move. I also think they might be breeding while we sleep at night. I have no idea how a Pokemon would go about doing the deed, but it would explain a lot.
(Also, I think the Kid is making trades at school that result in more coming in than are going out. Seriously, it's a grade-school black market.)
I dream of setting all the Pokemon free. Like, in a lake where they can float to the bottom. Or maybe from the car window while traveling down the highway.
Yes, I know that's completely un-environmentally friendly. Yes, I know that it would break the Kid's heart.
(But, for reals, he tells me some of them are "water" Pokemons. Maybe they would actually enjoy the lake?)
Alas, until the Pokemon army rises up and kills me in my sleep, I think I'm stuck with them. So, rather than tie them to a hundred little fireworks and pretend it's Fourth of July, I would like to commiserate with you all, instead.
Do (or did) your kiddos have a toy you cannot stand? What is it and how did you keep it from making you bananas? Did you have a similar collection when you were a child that you can now look back on and see made your parents crazy? Do tell!