Kids.Woot : One Day, You’ll Understand (SM)

What Hoth Han Wrought?

There you go, Junior. “Warm as a Lamb,” they say. But I bet it’s not as warm as another creature I once knew…

Now this was back in your Dad’s wild days, before I came back home and settled down. It was also before they turned this old wire factory into condos and a vegan cupcake bakery – I never thought this planet would see such a robust urban revival. But anyway, a friend of mine had gotten hurt, and it was on a really cold planet, so I had to cut this animal open and its guts were steaming-

Uh, maybe I’ll wait until you’re older for that story. Let’s just say it was a much messier, improvised version of this Innovators Warm as a Lamb Stroller Cover. Warm, water-repellent, great for protecting the very young or the very comatose from the cold. Of course, that one didn’t have a zipper – I had to use my light saber. It also didn’t have side air ventilation windows, or a recordable voice module, or a concealed rear storage compartment. And it sure didn’t come in your choice of two colors. But I think I did pretty well with what I had to work with.

Ah, it’s probably time we headed home. Your mom hates it when we’re late. I love her, but son, one word of advice? When you grow up, don’t marry a princess.

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‘Round and ‘round she goes

Wait, don’t mermaids tempt men to their doom?

My little girl hates to take baths. Hates, hates, hates it. I can’t say I really blame her. Since our gas got turned off, washing up has been an invigorating experience. That’s me trying to put a positive spin on it. It’d be more accurate to say it’s fracking freezing.

But being a parent is all about keeping your priorities in order and doing what’s best for your kid. And since my Tori deserves a father with both his thumbs, I’ve been paying Eugene, my bookie, instead of the utility bills. Like I said, priorities.

But speaking of putting a “positive spin” on things, I recently picked up this Barbie Flower Shower Mermaid. The idea was to make bathtime more fun, so Tori would get in there and at least rinse off once in a while. Then you push a button on the lily pad and what do you know? Little Babs starts in a-whirling around and spraying water all over the place. Big-time amusement ensues! And she was way, way cheaper than digging myself out of arrears with the gas company.

She loves it! Unfortunately, she only plays with it in a pothole full of rainwater in the alley behind our apartment. I don’t know, maybe she gets a little bit clean in there.

Anyway, all our troubles will be over after this weekend. I’ve got some can’t-lose tips on the dog races, so we’ll be in the money for sure! It’s all for you, little girl! Daddy loves you!

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Dear Mattel:

This letter regards your remote control stunt vehicle, the “Stunt Psycho.”

As an involuntary resident of a maximum security state mental hospital, I feel compelled to share my perspective. Sirs, this name—“Stunt Psycho”—is insensitive in the extreme. I should know. I have been the recipient of numerous psychiatric diagnoses, all of which designate me an extreme danger to the public, but at no point has any qualified mental health professional called me “psycho.”

Sadly, this is just one example of inappropriate language on your part.

To say this “insane multi-terrain” vehicle performs “wacked out wheelies [sic]” and “crazy flips” is to marginalize those of us who struggle with psychosis, cerebral derangement, uncontrollable ranting, Violent Rampage Disorder (VRD), and an occasional case of the stabbies. I would prefer to see this toy’s capabilities described in less inflammatory language, like this:

“Take the remote controller in hand and perform stunts which, if this vehicle were full sized and you were sitting in its driver’s seat, would be extremely dangerous and inadvisable.”

Also, encouraging children to “go nuts with some insane stunts” (as you do in your marketing materials) is completely irresponsible.

Gentlemen, I know what it means to “go nuts with some insane stunts.” While such episodes of abandon are satisfying in the moment, they also have unpleasant consequences. Your target market should know about those consequences.

If the children who buy your toys could get even one look at the padded cell to which I am confined day and night, I bet it would permanently change the way they drive their remote-control stunt buggies. From that day forward they would obey posted regulations, pass on the left, and never try another “crazy flip” again. That way lies misery and hardship.

I thank you for your time and thoughtful consideration.

Yours sincerely,
Dominic Batman Redbloodpanther
Geronimo reincarnated
Scion of Atlantis
The Lord your God

P.S. Please excuse this letter’s odor. I am not permitted to have writing implements, so had to scrawl this missive with my own excrement.

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JACK! GET IN HERE!

You have got some explaining to do, young man!

I sent you to the market with that cow and you come back with this?! A Studio One Up Jaxx Club Jr. Individual-Sized Bean Bag? This thing isn’t going to feed us, Jack! I thought we were on the same page with the whole “sell the cow and buy some stuff to plant so we don’t starve to death this winter” idea!

Now you just sit on that thing in your room all day, soaking up the lush micro-suede cover and the earth-friendly recycled urethane foam filling. Then you come out babbling about singing harps and golden chickens or something. It’s madness, Jack! Don’t you see? We’re going mad from starvation!

What the? You weren’t kidding? An actual golden egg? Show me! Show me now! I’ll heat up the skillet! And shut that stupid harp up! Oh, that’s right, I forgot: how are we going to crack these open?!

Sell them?

Jack, my boy, you might not be so bad after all!

Say, must be a storm brewing. That tree that sprouted up overnight sure is shaking.

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Strangers Without Candy

Greenland isn’t green. Iceland isn’t all that icy. And now, it seems, Candy Land has very little to do with candy.

In a Leif Ericsson-like move, Hasbro has brought confusion upon the House of High-Fructose Corn Syrup. The Candy Land Castle Game bears little resemblance to the classic board game, which is forgivable in itself. But we cannot forgive the almost-total dearth of candy.

We’re all for teaching kids as young as three how to identify shapes and colors. And like its namesake board game, you don’t need to read to play the Candy Land Castle Game, which is a good thing given our country’s shocking rates of illiteracy among preschoolers.

But, to paraphrase a lame catchphrase that we were all sick of 14 years ago, SHOW US THE CANDY. We’ve got a lever shaped like a candy cane, a couple of peppermint-looking battlements, and maybe some tiny pictures of candy on that smokestack or whatever it is. Sure, that’s more candy than you find in Pay Day or Sorry – excuse us for expecting more from an entire land of candy.

And don’t even try to tell us the gingerbread men are candy. They’re clearly cookies and everyone knows it. To pretend otherwise demeans us both.

So, in terms of its internal logical coherence, the Candy Land Castle Game serves only to confuse the youth about the true nature and meaning of candy. But then, they do have the shapes and colors right, so we suppose it’s a wash.

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Yo! Yo! Gabba Gabba Gabba Gabba

It’s the all-gabbing, all-singing tag-team battle that’s captured the imagination of the entire preschool!

In this corner, the monstrous duo of Brobee and Toodee! Wearing the green stripes, with the battle cry of “Yummy yummy!”, Brobee promises to devour all comers! When he sings “There’s a Party in My Tummy!”, all you can do is hope you’re invited as a guest and not the hors d’oeuvres! Clad in blue fur and brandishing her adorable fangs, Brobee’s partner Toodee is ready to “Jump, Jump, Jump” on the enemy! Believe us, you don’t want to be what the cat dragged in!

And in this corner, the fluffy femme fatale Foofa and the merciless singing machine Plex! When Her Pinkness sings “I Am So Happy”, it’s a sure bet that she’s just made the other guy very, very unhappy! The human mind cannot comprehend the fury that fires through Plex’s circuits – but it’s easy to understand that you don’t want to be one of the “sillies” he’s talking about in his signature anthem, “Let’s Get the Sillies Out”!

They talk! They sing! They won’t stop until everybody has fun! Are you readyyyy tooo gaaaaaaaaaaaaab?

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In Search Of The Best TV Show Ever

“Welcome to THE OUTER ZONE BEYOND!, a program dedicated to finding the truth that only occurs where the laws of science break down. I’m your host, Charles Bigfoot.”

“Tonight on the program, we welcome Dominic Ralph Machismo, author of a new book that discusses some of the theories behind the mystery of Ancient Egypt. D.R. Machismo, tell us, were the pyramids built by man?”

“Charles, let me first say it’s a pleasure to be on this show. I haven’t been so happy since the day I first discovered the Hasbro Cranium Triple Triumph! And as you can see, I’ve brought a Hasbro Cranium Triple Triumph along with me today.”

“I can see that, D.R. Machismo. And why is that?”

“Well, Charles, it’s because the Hasbro Cranium Triple Triumph is a perfect example of my well researched theory as to how the pyramids came to be. Here, I’ll demonstrate with you.”

“What do I need to do?”

“First, you pick up one of these little pyramid shaped bricks. That’s it. Now, imagine you’re a giant alien that only exists on the astral plane due to a dimensional shift that reversed the polarity of your neutron flow. Now, you set the piece on the board.”

“Like this?”

“Exactly, Charles, wonderful! You get a point on the scoring peg. Now I’ll go… hmm… I think I’ll go here.”

“It’s starting to look very Egyptian, D.R. Machismo.”

“That’s just the point, Charles. Because this Hasbro Cranium Triple Triumph proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the pyramids were built by powerful god-like beings that had four heads and spat fire.”

“Thrilling stuff, D.R. Machismo, thank you. That’s all the time we have for now, but join us again next time, when we’ll be speaking with a woman who claims that Life is controlled by a giant spinning dial and a deck of cards. I’m Charles Bigfoot for THE OUTER ZONE BEYOND!.

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Deep below, in the pristine blue…

A 50-feet-long leviathan rises from the depths.

The largest living toothed animal on the planet, Physeter marcocephalus, commonly known as the Sperm Whale, lives in pods of females and young, but older males such as this one roam the oceans alone; they often bear scars or, in this giant’s case, a Mulberribush Whale Tail T-shirt and Swim Trunk Set.

These gentle giants can grow to over 125,000 pounds. They live up to 70 years and, once fully grown, have no natural predators. They do, however, have a favorite prey.

Giant Squid.

Diving as deep as two miles below the surface, the whales can spend up to 90 minutes in the black oceanic depths searching for and battling its tentacled-adversary in a life and death struggle for food. This old male bears many scars from previous successful hunts. He is a true epoch predator, master of the oceans and all they hold. He-

“Theo! Get out of the deep end! And for god’s sake stop tying yourself up in the pool noodles! Do you want to drown?!”

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I’ll get you my pretty!

And your little slippers, too!

Your adorable little Umi Lissy Deep Red Shoes will be mine, all mine! Ahahahahaha-

Are you crying? Oh, Melanie, Mommy was just joking! Mommy was just playing a game! I’m so sorry! It’s okay! There’s no witch! I’m sorry, honey. Here, let Mommy hold you.

Honey, I would never let any mean old lady steal your cute little shoes! They’re so pretty only my little girl could ever wear them! They’re inspired by European design; yes, Melanie, like a fashion model! Except don’t ever let anyone tell you that nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. Food is your friend.

Oh, Mommy feels terrible, Melanie. I’m so sorry I scared you. Come on, let’s walk to the ice cream shop. You can wear your red shoes, since they’ve got a durable and flexible sole and outsole!

Oooh, wait. Don’t open that door. Mommy was planning a surprise with a flying monkey and I think I should take that down first.

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Offer Up Your Finest Tribute

Behold, denizens of the subdivision! Come and celebrate in our most humble backyard as we honor the Child of Destiny’s third year of life among you! RSVP quickly or SUFFER AN EXISTENCE WITH NO CAKE.

“Come forward with your gift, Steven of Folsons. What gifts do you bestow upon my child on this most glorious of days?”

“Uh, hey, Mark. Is the crown and specter really necessary?”

“SILENCE, neighbor. Do not speak ill of the father of the Child of Destiny while in the boy’s presence. The swiftest of punishments come to those who cause him to stain his chubbiest of cheeks with tears.”

“Oooookay. Well, Marsha and I thought that Robbie…”

“AHEM!”

“Excuse me. We thought the Child of Destiny might like this Thomas the Engine Talking Railway Stop & Greet Station with Talking Railway Billy and Molly.”

“Trains, you say? The boy does harbor a love for large vehicles of transportation.”

“Yes, well, this Stop & Greet Station actually recognizes Molly and Billy. Sir Topham Hatt will even call out to them by name as the Child of Destiny pulls the engines in and out of the station.”

“I see. Tell me, Neighbor Folson. Will this bundle work with the other toys from the Talking Railway Series?”

“Yep. In fact, the more engines and destinations you add, the more things Sir Topham Hat says. He’ll even greet trains not in the set with non-personalized phrases. It’s really a toy you and your child can enjoy expanding and playing with together.”

“This gift pleases the Child of Destiny. Once again, you have done well in choosing the correct offering, much as you have since the boy was still womb-bound. You may proceed the Table Of Cake and Pie.”

“Thanks, Mark. Good to see you, too.”

“BRING FORTH THE NEXT GIFT GIVER! Ah, Cousin Harold. I’ve not seen you since we loosed the hounds upon you after receiving the Super Flash-Flash Noise And Sirens Set at last year’s birthday. I trust we have learned our lesson this time, yes?”

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