One thing I didn’t expect when preparing for The Hurricane was the mounds and mounds of crap that come with being a parent.
And I don’t mean the ‘happy birthday old man, now here’s a pile of shit for you in my diaper’ sort of crap.
I mean crap, like junk.
The telephones that talk and sing and ring when nobody’s touching them, the outgrown shoes that have become playtoys and bathtub-water drinking devices (yes, my daughter drinks from a tiny Croc in the bathtub), the empty baby wipe containers that are so much fun we don’t have the heart to recycle them, the 38 dolls, and the toys that you just know aren’t going to work.
The Hurricane got one of the latter from my parents for Christmas. It’s a bubble maker, a great idea seeing as one of her first words was ‘bubble’, because we spent every waking moment this past summer either blowing bubbles in the backyard or whining and pointing out the window at the bubble container sitting on the patio table on the deck.
The possibilities were endless when the bubble maker bath toy was unwrapped, because The Hurricane was going through a phase of hating baths, so maybe, just maybe, a functioning bubble maker would make bathtime less of a battle and more fun, like it was when she was just learning to splash and play in the tub.
Because I’m more girl than man, I read the instructions when we first opened the bubble maker. I knew we were in trouble when the longest list of directions had to do with various reasons why the product might not be working. Yes, instead of telling me what to do, the instructions pretty much told me what I could blame when it failed to work.
And the directions were right. It didn’t work the first two times we tried the giant humming machine, which runs on two ‘C’ batteries and sounds like a generator.
But last night, I gave it one last shot. I poured in the bubble solution, added water, and pulled the cord to start the engine. I loosened the top to let more air in and suddenly, bingo, bubbles began spewing out the front of it.
Just like the picture on the box.
And The Hurricane’s face was priceless. Eyebrows up, mouth agape (the new look of ‘shock’ she loves showing off), and a big ‘Wow’, as I hung the machine off the tap spout and bubbles began to fill the tub. She spent the rest of the bath playing happily, and eating bubbles.
So the lesson I learned is sometimes, even when you’re ready to put something down, it might prove itself worthy of keeping around for a while yet.
(I’ll keep that in mind for the future too Mom and Dad – zing!)