Things That Go "Rrrrrruummm" In The Night
Only a parent can understand the pitfalls and potential hilarity that come with having children that love cars, trains and a wild assortment of toys that flash, play music and go "Woo woo!"
Like Sisyphus pushing his beloved boulder up the mountain every day, parents do their best to keep the house tidy, but a 5-minute retreat to the kitchen can mean returning to a toy-strewn living-room landscape that both amuses and annoys. A tiny Gettysburg battlefield of Matchbox cars, Thomas the Trains, fake coins, pillows, blanks and whatever else can be dragged out.
Sometimes, the toys are like sub-children, pesky devices that seem to take on a life of their own.
For example, two nights ago, something in the living room went off, perhaps an alarm clock, ringing out for attention. Last night, a groggy 4-year-old on the prowl set off a toy racing car, which made a loud "Rrrrruummmm! Rrrrruummm! Rrruummmm!" sound followed by a noisy peelout. The funny thing about all that peelout buildup is that the car subsequently rolls off at approximately 0.000001 mph and stops about 4 feet later, firing off one more "Rrrrruummmm! Rrrrruummm! Rrruummmm!" before going silent.
Other startling late-night favorites have included this semi-circular activity ring whose raucous music ranks somewhere between ice cream truck and carnival ride. When the batteries get low, it decides to let us know by launching its little orchestra of insanity. Then there was the toy Hummer, who let us know his batteries were low by also making a high-volume peelout sound.
When one is deep in sleep, these are not welcome sounds. I've often found myself out of bed and in some faux Ninja pose after a surprise serenade. I'm surprised I haven't soiled the sheets.
Slowly but surely, though, as the children move on to new interests, from toy cars and trains to skateboards and video games - and then real cars and girls and a mortgage - the old favorites find themselves retired to the garage.
The garage sale fodder is a bittersweet pill to swallow. On one hand, its nice to have the noisy, annoying and often cumbersome devices out of the house. On the other, it marks the end of a never-to-be recaptured childhood phase and underscores what older parents keep telling us: "Enjoy every minute of it, because it will all be gone some day."
Kids grow up too damn fast, don't they?
Like Sisyphus pushing his beloved boulder up the mountain every day, parents do their best to keep the house tidy, but a 5-minute retreat to the kitchen can mean returning to a toy-strewn living-room landscape that both amuses and annoys. A tiny Gettysburg battlefield of Matchbox cars, Thomas the Trains, fake coins, pillows, blanks and whatever else can be dragged out.
Sometimes, the toys are like sub-children, pesky devices that seem to take on a life of their own.
For example, two nights ago, something in the living room went off, perhaps an alarm clock, ringing out for attention. Last night, a groggy 4-year-old on the prowl set off a toy racing car, which made a loud "Rrrrruummmm! Rrrrruummm! Rrruummmm!" sound followed by a noisy peelout. The funny thing about all that peelout buildup is that the car subsequently rolls off at approximately 0.000001 mph and stops about 4 feet later, firing off one more "Rrrrruummmm! Rrrrruummm! Rrruummmm!" before going silent.
Other startling late-night favorites have included this semi-circular activity ring whose raucous music ranks somewhere between ice cream truck and carnival ride. When the batteries get low, it decides to let us know by launching its little orchestra of insanity. Then there was the toy Hummer, who let us know his batteries were low by also making a high-volume peelout sound.
When one is deep in sleep, these are not welcome sounds. I've often found myself out of bed and in some faux Ninja pose after a surprise serenade. I'm surprised I haven't soiled the sheets.
Slowly but surely, though, as the children move on to new interests, from toy cars and trains to skateboards and video games - and then real cars and girls and a mortgage - the old favorites find themselves retired to the garage.
The garage sale fodder is a bittersweet pill to swallow. On one hand, its nice to have the noisy, annoying and often cumbersome devices out of the house. On the other, it marks the end of a never-to-be recaptured childhood phase and underscores what older parents keep telling us: "Enjoy every minute of it, because it will all be gone some day."
Kids grow up too damn fast, don't they?
posted by Brian Pearson at 8:55 AM
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