As I look outside and see the kids playing in the snow, running up the hill to sled down on their new Christmas gift, I can only think of one thing…how much that fucking toy hurt getting it out of the damn box! Why the hell do they have to package these toys like it's the damn crown jewels? I mean I can understand why certain items would be done for safety purposes, but come on!
Perfect example of this is a gift my daughter desperately wanted, a doll that records video. I won't go into the rant of giving a young child an expensive toy that will ultimately end up naked and stuffed at the bottom of her toy chest because that's a whole different posting! Anyway, this doll looked so innocent in her box. And as a habit, I remove all tags and security ties before wrapping anything to make sure that on Christmas morning when she's tearing into the boxes like a freaking Tasmanian Devil, nothing stops her squeals of delights. So, as the diligent parent that I am, I begin to open the box. The fucking toy is welded into a plastic box that suddenly takes on the texture of sharpened steel. By the time I get the damn toy out, my hands look like I tried to thumb wrestle Freddy Kruger! Knowing that I still have to put batteries in this doll from hell, I continue on. After triumphantly putting the batteries in and taking a few test shots, I look at the new issue I have, how the fuck am I going to get the doll back in the damn box? With the skills generally reserved for those building highly volatile explosives, I get the doll back in. A little invisible tape and it looks like it came straight out of Santa's workshop. Of course, we won't point out the blood smeared onto the cardboard insides.
On to the next item, an oven that bakes yummy treats with a light bulb. Having wanted one of these things all my life, I couldn't wait to open this one! It was one of the few things that didn't need a retina scan to open the fucking thing. Easy to understand directions and no assembly truly required! Perfect! Except for one tiny thing, IT DOESN'T COME WITH A FUCKING LIGHTBULB!!! What the fuck is the point of getting an awesome toy like that and discovering that the MAIN part is missing?? Why not give a kid a jump rope and only hand them the handles and tell them to purchase the rope separately?? Make sense to you??? So , I call my husband to pick up a light bulb on the way home. And realizing that this toy was invented long before the energy saving light bulbs that currently grace all of our lamps, I knew they wanted the old fashioned ones. Some of you may not know this, but light bulbs used to be fairly cheap and came on the instant you flicked a switch! And if you weren't careful, you could burn your fingerprints off trying to change one of those things. If you get a minute, visit a museum to see if they have one on display! Back to the story…My husband proudly returns with a 100 watt bulb, just as I have requested. Only one problem, it's soft white. Did you know that in the old days, some people actually wanted light that you could read a book by and they bought light bulbs that FUCKING LIT UP A DAMN ROOM?? So, on Christmas Eve, guess who sent her man back out to find a clear bulb of appropriate size and wattage? You got it! You didn't think I was going out to get it, did you?
Finally, the bulb is in place, and the box is wrapped. Come Christmas morning, my adorable children tear into the presents with gusto. All of our gifts have been de-tagged and secured with batteries. Ah, all was well in our kingdom. Until we got to the gifts that others had given. Long story short, we ended up with a list of battery requirements that would make Duracell squeal happily and there's still toys in boxes because we aren't smart enough to have figured out the alien twisting code required to extract the shiny pieces of plastic. Do I fret? Hell no! Wrap those packages up for the next birthday party we're invited to! Let those parent's put their Mensa skills to use and open it! As for me, I'll take my kids to the dollar store and tell them that they can go on a shopping spree! After all, what little girl hasn't dreamed of the day she owns her very own Barble, right? So let's give those lovely toy manufacturers a one finger salute in honor of their dedication to securing a toy that cost about 10 cents to make and retails for $69.99 and will fall apart as soon as you figure out the combination to open the fucking thing! You guys fucking rot! May you all get arthritis!
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