We spent a portion of yesterday packing our insanely large collection of implements into transportation-friendly bags, boxes and poster tubes.
This has proved very, very painful. There were some toys we hadn’t even seen for a while, because they’d been deeply stashed behind all the other toys, and Abel couldn’t resist reminding himself of their power.
It went like this: we’d shove a few toys into a bag, pull out the next armful, and Abel would go: “Oh! Look at this, a paddle/strap/spoon/brush, what fun! Bend over!” And give me a whack with it. Not just a tiny little smack, but a proper stroke. I would howl. He would tell me to keep my voice down, because of the open window. I would tell him not to hit me so hard if he wanted my voice down. Then we’d pack away the toys.
And move on to the next armful. And the next.
I’m starting to think we may not need that many toys: they hurt.
I’m sure if you think creatively enough, you can manage to ensure some of the worst get lost during the move… ooo, I know, leave some in the car, leave it unlocked at a service station, and then tell Abel they got stolen in an unfortunate car theft! In fact, if you tell me what service station, I’ll come and steal them for you to add veracity to the story.
Or mail some overseas…! 😀
Those toys buried at the bottom of the drawer are buried for a reason! They are the ones that hurt the most and for some strange reason, they find their way to the bottom of the pile. Hmmm, that happens at our house, too!