Sunday, January 25, 2009

Me and Mr. Potato Head Have a Love Hate Relationship Right Now

Before we had kids I bought a giant Mr. Potato Head at Costco. Inside the giant potato head was a whole family of potato heads with the usual parts and pieces for each. A purse for the Mrs. and a flowered hat for the little girl were included. It was a novelty that I liked to display in our lving room...I thought it was fun to look at. Then my nephew and niece were born and they had a blast playing with it too. We would empty out the giant potato and the amazing sea of parts and pieces would flow out of it like some sort of oddly colored body part river. We would play and make up different looks for each of the Potato family members. And then my nephew and niece would go home and Mr. Potato Head would return to his home on the shelf where his smiling face with perfect white teeth and red nose would amuse me until the next time it was time to play. My feelings for Mr. Potato Head have since changed. I now find myself, since becoming a mom of a boy, picking up pieces and parts of the giant Mr. Potato Head from under every piece of furniture, tucked into nooks and cranies and stashed anywhere the boy thinks would be a safe and secret hiding place for the unusually colored body parts of the Mr. Potato Head. At times I find this amusing. At times I find this annoying. Say for instance I find a Mr. Potato Head ear in my sock drawer...amusing. Say I find a Mr. Potato Head shoe inside of one of my shoes...also amusing. But to find a Mr. Potato Head eyes in the chip bag? Actually...also amusing. So the times I find it annoying are when I have just cleaned the house and I have found that the boy has dumped the entire giant Mr. Potato Head onto the living room floor and then walked away. Why? Why...I ask myself...why? For the pure enjoyment of making a mess I am pretty sure. I love to hate all of those million pieces and parts of the giant Mr. Potato Head and then I see that perfect white smile...and I am in love once again.

Lovesandboy,
Bekah

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