Letter to Parents Magazine

This letter is about 6 1/2 years too late. That is what happens when you are a parent. You mean to write that angry review about a defective product and bam! 6 1/2 years have passed. This does not however take away from severity of the complaint. This is not a complaint of a defective nature or warning of injury. This comes from a more “You should have known better!” nature. The target? The magazine/company Parents.

My son turned 8 on Saturday May 3rd. It was a very emotional weekend for the both of us. We shared stories about his birth, talked about his daddy and how badly we wish he was still with us. G had a sleepover with his buddy R who he met after G had open heart surgery for the second time. R is the kind of child who just loves everyone and everything so much that he tends to forget about personal space and boundaries. G is goofy now, but was very serious as a toddler. So when we first introduced G and R, and R instantly climbed into G’s bed, and pulled up the covers. This threw G off. He looked to me questioningly, and slowly scooted away towards the edge of the bed. If we hadn’t warned R before hand about not hugging G as his chest was still incredibly sore he probably would have thrown his arms around G.

Playdates became frequent. As the parent of any toddler will tell you, children at 2ish don’t tend to play with each other, but play adjacent to each other. G would play with a toy in the yard or in the house, R would instantly find the toy in G’s hands as the best toy in the world and want it badly. G wouldn’t care, he was happy with any toy as long as he wasn’t disturbed. Taking turns was difficult, but not impossible. R would get his turn with the amazing, incredible toy that G just handed over but within minutes he would decide that his toy was crap and yet again G had the absolute best toy ever and instantly want it. G would get upset because we interrupted his playtime once again for another round of “share the toy.” And the cycle repeats!

Toddler arguments are stressful, but not impossible to handle.
A little wine, a nice dinner with friends and you can laugh it off as a funny story about life and parenting or a silly quirk.

The fight over this toy would become a legend. I still shudder at the sight of it. Hell, I got off my butt and wrote a post about it!  The devil toy in question is this:

Parents Magazine Bee Bop Band Play & Learn Drum & Instruments

Got a good look? Did you catch the design flaw in this drum kit? What did Parents Magazine miss?
The drum sticks are two different colors. The f#$king drumsticks on a toy for toddlers are two f$#cking different colors.

Both toddlers decided that the yellow drumstick was the holy grail and that us adults asking them to share it would mean the end of all humanity.
For 6 hours G and R fought, and cried, and whined, and sobbed, and screeched, and hit each other and shrieked that the orange drumstick was inferior and no other toy or instrument would suffice. Eventually R’s mom stashed the drum stick on stop of a bookcase. R walked away eventually but G’s eyes did not move from that bookshelf.
By the end of the night I was near tears myself. R’s mom and I actually popped open a bottle of wine (After much struggling. Those babies are hard to open if you aren’t experienced.) But neither of us are really drinkers and two 1/4 filled glasses of wine was sacrificed to the kitchen Gods in the sink.

It took about 5 months for G to stop standing next to the bookshelf each visit. Neither of us adults dared to risk bringing that drum stick back down.

A few years later, R’s mom told me she was cleaning the house and found it. It took her a moment to remember what the heck a yellow drumstick was doing on top of the shelf in the first place. I am not sure what happened to old yellow. Maybe it was handed down to another family where it can cause outragous fights between siblings. Maybe it vanished in to the abyss it originally rolled from. Or just maybe it is just waiting at some garage sale, waiting to curse the first family that comes in contact with the yellow stick from hell.

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