There was a time, not so long ago (Wednesday) when I thought rather smugly to myself: I’m so glad my children don’t get sucked in to dumb toy-trends involving rubber bands. Or fur-covered pieces of plastic that pose as hamsters.
And then it was Sunday. And my six year old was lying in bed beside me, sobbing, ‘I’ll never be happy. Ever. Again.’ Because his younger brother had misplaced the three or four ‘silly’ bandz the Gort had received from his classmate’s….mother.
Our oldest blonde wonder had dutifully placed the little bands of rubber in a plastic container, and had carried it with him on and off for a week. And then…bam…it was Sunday morning. And the container’s lid was removed. And there were no silly bands inside.
The only plausible culprit was the Hen. The same person who (later in the day) dumped an ENTIRE bottle of blue mouthwash (750ml) down the drain. Choosing instead to fill the bottle with clear water. Which he proudly carried around the house. Otherwise we might have never known that he purposely jeopardized our oral hygiene.
Thus, it was 8ish on a Sunday morning. And I wanted the crying to stop. And I didn’t even have a voice. So I whisper-croaked the dumbest words known to mankind: ‘we’ll go buy you some more silly bandz later today.’ Which he countered with ‘but you don’t even know where to buy silly bandz.’ Which I countered with, ‘I saw them at Hallmark’ because I actually had seen the things taking up valuable aisle space in the card store. To which he replied ‘when can we go to Wal-Mart.’
Hallmark. Wal-Mart. Whatever.
And with my pathetic attempt at placating a child who insisted he’d never know happiness again, I made my day that much more….complicated.
‘Can we go buy silly bandz at Wal-Mart after church?’ ‘When can we go buy silly bandz?’ ‘Did you think about when we could go buy those silly bandz?’ ‘Are we going to buy silly bandz, now?’ Et.cet.era.
I checked online to see where in Calgary one could buy Silly Bandz. Which led to a lot of links containing the words ‘Justin Bieber’. Maybe before I turn 40 I will find out who this Justin Bieber kid is. But today, I just wanted to know where I could buy some Silly-Bandz.
Hallmark, or Indigo, Google finally told me.
I chose Indigo. It was closer.
The five of us descended upon the bookstore. The professor located the Silly Bandz. There was only one kind: rockstar or rockband. I can’t even remember now. ‘I don’t like these,’ the Gort protested.
It really was a simple dilemma: buy the silly bandz, even though they aren’t your favorite….or don’t buy any silly bandz. At all. He decided subpar silly bandz were better than…no silly bandz.
The professor left with our crying baby-boy-child and I walked towards the check-out with our other boy-children. The line snaked all the way to the back. There were probably twenty or more people waiting in line to purchase stuff at Indigo.
For the love…..
‘I don’t want to wait in line,’ my oldest complained. Another ‘easy’ dilemma: stand in line and get silly bandz, or go to the car and get no silly bandz.
So we stood in line. Luckily one of the employees walked by with a tub of candy for the wait-ers. I think the unwritten rule was ‘one per customer, please’. But I wanted to grab a handful.
Finally, it was our turn. I handed the employee the silly pack of rubber bands. ‘That will be $5.31’ she announced.