Thursday, April 9, 2009
I may have officially seen it all.
I was standing in the seasonal aisle at Hobby Lobby (yes, I hang out there enough to know it by its technical name), looking for crafts or geegaws or something to put in my niece and nephew's Easter baskets this year. When they start selling this stuff at 50 percent off a month before the holiday, you know it's all cheap crap, but then they are kids. Who cares if it's some off-brand toy trucked in by a nearly unknown distributor?
So I was rather happy to find color-it-yourself paddle balls. You know, the kind where they put a rubber ball on a piece of elastic and you whap the snot out of that ball with the paddle as it bounces back? I suppose it teaches coordination; I rarely get past 5 hits before I miss and the ball swings back and smacks me in the eye.
There's one with Easter eggs to decorate, and a sweet one with a lamb in the meadow, and oh, look! Here's one with a Bible.
A Bible? You want to hand a kid a Bible and let him smack the holy tar out of something with it? And if this toy ends up taking the same path in my nephew's house that it would have in my childhood, Dad will eventually rip off that little elastic appendage and use the paddle to tan his hide.
Whoohoo! Getting spanked by the Good Book. You don't think that will require counseling?