We don't need no stinkin toys!

There are those ironic subjects in life that people discuss and laugh about because they are so stereotypically true. When you drop the piece of bread you are spreading your favorite jelly on, it will hit the floor jelly side first. The day after an appliance warranty runs out is when the appliance will break down. When there is money in your pocket to buy some new clothes, you won't be able to find a single good thing to try on or buy BUT when you're broke.... every outfit you see is the one that got away. I do believe Alanis Morissette wrote a song about such things.

I've heard parents of every age talk about the toys they searched long and hard for only to have their child be more interested in the box the toy came in than the toy itself. I can now claim this truth for myself. It isn't as if Cameron, who is seven months old, has a lot of toys. How many play things could he possibly need? What few he has, though, are already boring and can only hold his attention for short periods of time. Baby version of "been there, done that." So today I searched out those items that seem to capture his desires most of all... the mommy and daddy tools that "are not for little kids." Yea, right!

Today I put "his" toys back in their little bag and set it aside. Instead, he got a tippy cup filled with a touch of water, a small plastic bowl (with lid) containing a couple of cheerios, a wooden spoon, and a rubber spatula. You would have thought he had just found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Such smiles. Such adulation. "Thank you Mother for giving me the cool things."

So here we sit, I at the computer and he on the floor beside me with his forbidden treasures. Rockin Robin from the "You've Got Mail" soundtrack has my foot tapping and Cameron has his serious face on as he studies every minuscule detail of his new delights. The sun is shining, the back door is open letting in fresh air, and the wooden spoon just became the drum stick to the cheerio bowl's cool thumping sound.

The simple things in life are good. Now if we grown ups could figure out the not so simple things of life like mean people, spies, tattle tales, and thankless endeavors. Really, how hard could it be? Everything should be as simple as a rubber spatula and as mesmerizing as a bowl of dry cereal. Alas, the innocence of babyhood is fleeting.