Saturday, November 13, 2004

The Migraine Toy

Every household with children has one. The most annoying toy ever designed and probably crafted by Satan himself in the deepest, darkest bowels of hell. I call this gift to humanity, the migraine toy. The migraine toy currently infesting our happy home is my daughter Emma’s toy cellular phone.

I cannot emphasize enough how truly evil this thing is. This toy cell phone has actively chipped away at my sanity for the past 234 days now. On occasion, this toy has even reduced me to a blubbering wreck that has needed a stiff shot of whiskey at 9:00am.
Now, out of self-preservation, whenever I hear the following verbal queue: “Mommy! Have you seen my cell phone?” I immediately proceed to the bathroom (where there is Tylenol) lock the door, and curl up in the fetal position on the cool damp bath mat.

Not only does this toy cell phone light up in a spectacular seizure inducing way, but it is also conveniently voice activated. This toy can indeed be brought to life by noises such as clearing one’s throat, stepping on that creaky spot in the floor, and blinking. The toy plays a myriad of obnoxious life-like ringing tones and will even simulate actual conversations. The conversations are actually a variety of recorded greetings in dismal accents so annoying that they will make you want to chip away at your forehead with a rusty butter knife. Oh – and one final important detail. There is NO VOLUME CONTROL. Any sound emitted from this lobotomy in a box is at an inner ear pulverizing decibel. The sheer loudness of this toy will cause every neuron in ones body to simultaneously fire. The effects of this varies from person to person, but usually include varying degrees of spasming, hyperventilation, and of course ye ol’ faithful migraine. Studies have yet to be preformed but I would hazard a guess that prolonged exposure to this toy will eventually lead to paralysis, coma, and death.

Naturally this is my daughter Emma’s favorite toy in the entire world.

Unfortunately, now that she is seven the battery removal “Oh too bad it’s broken” technique no longer works. Ah well – Jack and I had a good run with that one.
Sadly, Emma is all too familiar with the magic of batteries. Because she is such a smart cookie, she also knows that when the batteries in this toy from hell begin to run out, that fresh ones can be borrowed from other toys, the television remote control, the garage door opener and the smoke detectors.

So basically all we can do is hide the damn thing and pray that the novelty wears off as quickly as it did with the Pixtar. Please God let it end.

Conversation overheard by me while hiding in the bathroom between Emma & her daddy.

BRRRRRRRRRIIING, BRRRRRRRRRIIING, HELLO IS ANYBODY HOME?

Jack (groan): Oh Emma – not the cell phone…
Emma (sing-song voice): Da-ddy, Somebody wants to talk to you!

Jack (grumble): Hello? Yeah, could you please call Emma back after lunch? Kay thanks. Bye-bye.

DADDOOOO, DADOO! DOO, DOO, DOO! HOWDY PARTNER!!

Emma: Da-ddy! It’s SOMEBODY else now. Daddy, say hi!
Jack (grumpy): Hello? Ok, Emma needs to eat her breakfast now – you wouldn’t want her to get in trouble and have to have a time out right? Okay? Bye-bye.

Emma (shrill): Daddy! That’s not polite telephone manners!
Jack (steely voice): Emma, how about we put the cell phone away until after breakfast okay honey? Daddy needs a little quiet time to finish his coffee and read the newspaper.

BLLLEEEEEEEEEPP, BLIPPITY BLEEP! AHOY MATEY!

Emma (excited): Daddy! Guess what? The newspaper people are ON THE PHONE!
Jack: Hello? Okay, they say they need to talk to mommy right away. Why don’t you go tell her that the phone is for her?

Emma: Can’t! Mommy is in the bathroom and the door is locked.
Jack: UGH! She beat me to it.

DDDEEEEEEEEDOOOO! DEEEEEDOOO! LIKE HI, DO YOU WANT TO COME TO A DANCE PARTY?

Emma: DADDY! Don’t you want to go dancing?
Jack (voice rising): Emma I asked you to put away the toy. Now don’t make me ask again!

BLIP, BLIP, BLIP! BLEEP, BLEEEEEEEEP! YO DUDE WASSUP?

Jack (loud): For the love of God Emma! Please, please put away the phone or daddy will have to break it!!

Emma (tapping phone against table): Daddy, you can’t break this - it is hard plastic!
Jack (cold scary voice): Oh Really? I think daddy’s hammer could break that phone. Why don’t we go get daddy’s toolbox and find out?

Silence.

Emma (sulky): Fine, I will talk on my phone more later. GEEZ!

3 Comments:

Blogger honestyrain said...

oh. god. yes. we had a motorcycle thingy that made me nuts. i've never heard anything more obnoxious in my life. it's in hiding and i would just throw it out were it not for my dad having bought it for my son.

8:31 PM  
Blogger blackdaisies said...

Oh I remember it well ... and you think as they get older, it gets better and then you have to contend with half the neighbourhood boys piled into a bedroom screeching like girls while playing x-box - its amazing how 10 year old boys can sound like 3 year old girls while maintaining the coolness of 15 year old boys, lol.

3:16 PM  
Blogger Lexagirl said...

What do you mean it doesn't get better?
whimper...

7:39 PM  

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