A Merry Toddler Christmas

A Merry Toddler Christmas

A recent conversation was overheard at a neighborhood restaurant. A Mom, Grandmother and a young boy were sharing a meal.

Grandmother (GM): I had forgotten how large and cumbersome toddler toys and accessories are. It’s been a while since I have had to Christmas wrap some for a young child.

The Mom: What did you get him? He just turned 2 and really isn’t aware of the latest trends in preschool playthings or electronics.

Young Boy (YB): iPho, iPho

GM: Well- I got him a

Mr. Potato Head. They have changed since you were little. Those had plastic potatoes. You just inserted the facial features into small holes. I had the prehistoric version when I was a girl. It was much more fun. We used real potatoes and jabbed the eyes, nose, ears, and all the other pieces into the potato wherever we wanted. It was much more imaginative play. 

The Mom: And your generation also ingested copious amounts of LSD.

GM: Well, I do remember my mother serving mashed potatoes frequently. She probably kept Idaho in the black just from our own kitchen.

The Mom: Ewww… She actually cooked those drippy, blobs full of holes oozing white goo? That explains a lot.

GM: She told us it was glue. It did stick paper together pretty well. That was before white school glue in bottles. The only alternative we had was a bottle of the brown, smelly stuff. It congealed in the slit that looked like a vag… 

The Mom: I don’t believe we are having this conversation in a public place.

GM: So the Mr. PH I got him is 2 feet tall. They were out of the life size ones, and… 

YB: P? H? E? A? Wheel!!

The Mom: Here’s your applesauce, child. Eat up, now.

GM: At least the potty chair is in a manageable box. I am considering using a spare set of sheets to wrap some items. The easel, for example, and the mini 4 wheeler.

YB: PeePee, PeePee

The Mom: OK- a potty chair is perfect, as long as it doesn’t play music whenever he uses it. 

GM: No, dear. You know that they play only those insipid kiddie songs. Now, if there was one with a solo by Garth Brooks or Roger Waters.

The Mom: Mother! You have such an old lady sense of humor – potty, brooks, waters- what’s next? You are regressing to the mindset of a 12 year old boy.

GM: Well, then I would have something in common with your husband.

YB: Appo. Want appo.

GM: He still loves applesauce. Hm... I think we are missing a money making opportunity here. We could change his name to Mott and give a couple ad firms a call. It's never too early to set up a college fund.

The Mom: Wasn’t there a rock group from the olden days called Mott the Hoople? It was just about when they invented the radio. That was when you were a teen, right?

YB: Hoople, Hoople

GM: They just did a reunion tour in November throughout the UK. They were a late 60’s, early 70’s band with moderate success. 

YB: Bunny Na Na Naaaa 

The Mom: Now listen to him. He’s repeating everything. 

GM: His language is developmentally appropriate. He’s putting 2-3 words together. 

The Mom: At least he didn’t learn to say,

"Pope Francis” despite your best effort. 

YB: Francis Hoople. 

GM: Check please!