So, my mother-in-law and I differ in our opinion about animatroic toys. She finds them adorable. I find them slightly less adorable than mosquitoes and root canals. Naturally, the children agree with her and she buys some for them every Christmas. And various other holidays. And sometimes just because she happened to be in Hallmark. Luckily, I have convinced her that some of them want to live at her house because "it delights the children to visit them there." She went for it, so that is how I unloaded the Valentine's Day bull that sings in Spanish for some reason and the Roller Skating Casper the Friendly Ghost, who is wearing a vampire cape and who, incidentally, started to sound like Bela Lugosi when the batteries were dying. But I have had less luck with the Christmas ones and most of them live here. Thankfully, they "sleep" for 11 months of the year in the basement, but the day after Thanksgiving, all 3 Supers want to know where the "talking toys" are. And upstairs they come, like a pack of singing werewolves. Which is just as scary as it sounds.
My least favorite is the hula-hooping Alvin the Chipmunk. Mostly because the children are constantly removing the hula-hoop, which leaves him whirling his lonely hips like some furry Elvis, lustfully luring my children to him with his siren song and Santa hat. Well, this year, Super Toddler finally broke him. Of course, she only broke the hip motion part. Now, he forlornly sings, while the motor spurts and clicks in the background, trying to shake a little shimmy out. His little head is kinda drooped to the side, making his paunch all the more noticeable and sad. I guess he is like Fat Elvis now.
This is better experienced than discussed. Here ya go:
The Supers decide that Fat-Elvis-Christmas-Alvin is too sad, so they give him a friend about 10 seconds in. It doesn't make him any less sad, but they seem to find it adorable.
Can't wait to see who shows up to traumatize me this year!
Tis the season!
Tis the season!