Irony Becomes Her

'Tis the Season

Toys R Us, for this festive and meaningful holiday season, has labeled itself "The World's Joy Store."

When Chloe received a complete Mr. Potatohead set, she left her parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles to the foolishness of putting together the plastic pieces. The bucket they came in was far more entertaining, producing shrieks of delight whenever it covered her own head or those of her guardians. We irked her repeatedly by putting all that junk back in it, forcing her to take the trouble of dumping it back out again.

Dancing and singing Elmo was also quite a hit, but the joy it produced was of a chiefly individualized nature. The shrieks of delight were reserved to Chloe and only Chloe, just masking the sound of tooth-grinding which emanated from the adult portion of the room. Elmo spent most of his time on top of the piano, and joy reigned as long as Chloe couldn't see him up there. After all, she had this terrific bucket to keep her busy.

What is it with these little children? Why won't they obey the mandate that joy be purchased in plush and plastic units for which batteries are not included? Why did my own siblings and I squirm through our homework to get out to the ancient cylindrical pillow we affectionately termed "the bomb"? And the chewed-up secondhand plastic bat was really ridiculous, now that I think about all the games we made up with it.

Thankfully, we're smarter now; we understand that satisfaction cannot be derived from imaginative sources. As responsible adults, we apply the American way of hard work and teeth-gritting to obtain our own fancy pieces of plastic from the more sophisticated associates of the Joy Store. We also understand our responsibility to teach our children, providing them with all the pieces of joy we never had and eliminating that foolishness we went through as kids.

Joy to the world!

posted by Lynn @ 9:31 AM