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sports car

kids inc

Boys and Twucks

I just brought Tru to Toys R’ Us the other day to pick out a new toy just for fun (I can’t help it, I’m gonna spoil my kids rotten). The look of delight on his face every time he goes to a toy store is too much of a high for me. It’s like how I felt when I first stepped into Disneyland (the Anaheim one) during Christmastime. The feeling of awe doesn’t go away and till this day, stepping into Disneyland is still a special experience.

Notice the grimace on the husband's face

Notice the grimace on the husband's face

Which explains why I dragged the husband by the hair running around like maniacs in Disneyland for 3 days during our honeymoon. When the kids start to walk, I’m going to make it an annual pilgrimage to spend a week in the happiest place in the world. And I’ll be like the coolest mom ever.

So back to the toy store. We were making our rounds trying to find a toy he liked. It’s called the toy test.

1. I’ll hold up a whole bunch of toys and see which one he grabs.

2. He’ll hold it closer to inspect it for a while. 

3. If he likes it, he’ll clap his hands.

4. If not, it gets flung away.

 I’ve tried various methods to influence his decision, like shake it while making funny sounds, or shoving it closer so he’ll want to grab it, but I’m telling you, this boy is too smart for his own good. At 12 months, he seems to know exactly what he wants.

The difference is, as rational, informed adults, we choose stuff based on the functions, design, price, branding and reliability. Kids, on the other hand, have no basis for their selection of stuff and they can be drawn to seemingly lame and useless toys just because it’s in their favorite color, or because it belts out irritating rhymes. Bizarre, I know.

As a parent, I’m resisting the urge to tell him the tacky, pink, giant rubber ball that costs $12.99 is stupid, and that he should pick an Optimus Prime robot that can transform into a cool trailer truck.

Anyway, after discarding like a whole trolley-full of toys, Tru finally settles on a Playskool dump truck with a giant meat ball that wobbles. I was still trying to hard-sell the Transformers toy but he was intent on getting his twuck and he grabbed on to it for dear life. Optimus Prime got smashed to the floor in the process but I have a feeling he’ll do just fine.

*Autobots, transform and roll out*

Dumb twuck

Dumb twuck

Now that Tru is in his cars and trucks phase, I’m amassing enough vehicles at home to start an automobile shop. I’m just waiting for the day he starts pestering us for an Audi TT. That’ll be fun.

love bites

What men really want

The husband sent me this pic with a giant header that says “This has to appear in your blog”, so I’ve decided to be all nice and obliging since Superdad has been saving my ass the whole of this week. And who doesn’t just LOVE a life-sized remote control with all the buttons for dudes to control women.

I’m all done with my bra-burning days, so hello, Stepford Mom.

what-men-want
I love that all the needs of a man can be filtered down to 3 simple words – sex, food and beer (in that order). All the others are inconsequential.

Take work for example. The whole point of working is to earn a bunch of dough so that they can buy food and beer and a fancypants sports car, which will lead to some smoking hot sex in the sports car. Or outside the sports car so the fancy upholstery wouldn’t be all ruined which would mean the end of all future prospective hot sex, cos the only sex they’ll be getting with a crummy, beat-up junk is from a toothless transvestite who just had a hair transplant.

And married men (especially fathers) need the remote more than their bachelor friends, since their only hope of having any food or hot sex (forget the beer) is if they cleaned up the house, fed the kids, bought some diamonds, gave me a bubble bath and a nice massage, by which time I’d be sleeping like a baby, except on good days where I’m not pregnant, or having PMS or feeling too fat.

I say it’s tough to be a dude. Problem is, most guys who don’t get the sex end up eating more food and guzzling down more beer to try to fill that giant void in their lives. But then they (i’m still referring to men here) end up looking like they’re 7 months pregnant and that also eliminates all hope they have for getting any sex in the foreseeable future. Vicious cycle.

Men are, in fact, the weaker sex. Hey, read the news.

So take it from a chick. It’s far easier to do the housework and run the bubble bath. At least there’s a chance (however slim) it might just be your lucky day.