Thursday, February 15, 2007

May The Force Be With Me

For Valentine's, because no holiday big or small comes without the expectation of a gift, the TB received yet another light saber. But you see this one was different because it lights up different colors! Well, the box was all taped up, and I feared a problem, and sure enough once I popped in the batteries: no light, no sound, nothin'.

So yesterday, LBB searched the ‘Marts for a replacement. The Walmart toy guy informed her that they no longer have that kind. Now they have a new spring-loaded version, but it is not multi-colored. Well, we already have four daggone light sabers in the house, so I don't want some "new version" adding to the mess. Fortunately, LBB didn't fall for it either.What she did fall for, when I saw it I nearly screamed, was a Transformer version of the Millennium Falcon that is built out of two robots: a Chewbacca and a Han Solo. Well, TB was thrilled. I was mortified. I cannot stand a Transformer. I just don't have the patience to figure out which way to twist and fold the damn things into their proper, transformed shape.

Sure, they give you a diagram, with the ½ inch 2-D replicas of Chewy and Han, arrows directing you this way and that. To me it’s about as clear as z = x3 - 3xy2. I remember all those standardized tests back in school, and I did well overall, but the ones where you have to fold shapes in your head and then figure out the end result? Those kicked my butt. I could never be an engineer. I’ve seen five year olds assemble these wretched transformers patiently, and with ease. I want to take them outside and run them over with my car (the toys, not the children).

I gave LBB the snake eye when I saw the box, but the boy was excited, so I shut my mouth. Of course it was hogtied in all those gray wires and invisible rubber bands. And you know, after fighting with the packaging, turning Han and Chewy into a spaceship wasn’t all that hard. Done in about 20 minutes. Which led to a couple hours of uninterrupted spaceship flight, though our house and on down to G’diddy’s apartment.

Well worth it in the end, but if he drops the thing and it falls to pieces, I’m handing him the diagram so he can figure it out himself. The box did say ages five and up, right?

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