As I mentioned, we’ve been sick. (Which stands to reason, because we were looking forward to a day at the beach on Saturday with our friend Heather and her family all fricking summer, so of course we got sick and had to cancel. Le sigh.) And since it has been a billion degrees with humidity, we’ve been stuck inside. And trying to amuse That Baby in any way we can.
However, at 16 months, Stinkerbelle is at an age where she is starting to enjoy interactive play. So we invented a game. The rules are a bit sketchy, and as far as I can tell, are in a different language. But everyone seems to enjoy it, so I play along.
The rules seem to be as follows.
1. I gather up Stinkerbelle’s pals Mr. Giraffe, Mr. Elephant and Mr. Zebra, and put them on the footstool, like so:
2. I chat with them all friendly-like. Mostly it’s all “Oh hello everybody, and how are you today?” But occasionally, at about round 27 of the game, it becomes more along the lines of “Dudes, I am SO SORRY” and “Please forgive me” and “She’ll get bored soon, I promise”.
Because then, they get an eyeful of THIS:
Which is like Babyzilla stomping into their fuzzy smiling plush little toy version of Tokyo.
3. First there is some shouting at and berating of the victims. Babyzilla is a cruel master. Or, possibly, she’s reassuring them and cheering them on. It’s hard to say.
But as she slaps them around a fair bit…:
I tend to think it is the former.
4. Victory is HERS! Apparently.
At which time, she hands the victim to me, and I am to kiss him and ask how he’s doing. You know, aid and comfort. General triage. That sort of thing.
5. And then I set them back up, and we go again. And again. And again.
Meh. It’s a living.
It beats watching the Wiggles for the billionth time in a day.