It’s true that once you have kids, nothing is ever yours again. It either “grows legs and walks away” on its own or you just relinquish items to your toddler because they’ll either pester you until you die, or it’ll just grow legs and walk away anyway. I never realized that this was the nature of having children. Oh sure, I heard my mother constantly bitch when I was growing up about her stuff disappearing, and of course, I just rolled my eyes. I get it now. I’m constantly telling the Mini not to touch stuff that doesn’t belong to him, and little hands are always swiping shit off the counter, or out of my office. My office is full of toys. Toys that are his and toys that are mine. Like my action figure collection. Most of which have now become his. One in particular, that has my friends and his teachers questioning my toy criteria for him:
Ever since the Mini was able to communicate his wants and desires, he’s been slowly knicking my action figure collection. His favorites quickly became the Family Guy action figures, with particular fondness of the two Lois action figures, one of them being dominatrix Lois. My friends of course, give me hell for this (probably because dominatrix Lois is a particular favorite among the kids, her daughter included, if only she came across Peter in his gimp suit), because what the hell kind of toys are you giving your kid anyway? My answer? Whatever keeps him quiet the longest, thank you very much. Sometimes it’s racy action figures, sometimes it’s a sharp pointy stick.
Truthfully, I don’t LET him play with it so much as we play hide and seek. I take it and put it away where he can’t find it, and yet Lois always makes her appearance somewhere in his toybox. And of course it’s usually when his friends come over, or more horrifyingly when his speech teachers are over. Thankfully, they’re like family and have a great sense of humor, but seriously, I think Lois is secretly alive and shows up in not so insconspicuous places, just to make me look bad.