New car, caviar, four star daydream

I think we may have begun creating a monster.

A sweet, loving, fun, silly, affectionate little monster, but a green-eyed greedy little monster nonetheless.

To wit: we had a lovely family sort of day today. Mojo and Peep slept in - literally; he got up in the dawn and pattered into our room and crawled into our bed, snuggled down between us and went to sleep. I got up and went downstairs, finished the "think piece" on Iraq I'd wanted to get done, surfed a bit, checked the weather, the usual internet fiddling. Finally we all got up, had breakfast, did some housework (at least we did - Peep played with his new wooden Thomas trains we fought through the insane parade crush to buy at Finnegan's yesterday - see below) went to Columbia Pool, finally having some friends over for dinner. Lovely day.

[Note to self: (in re: new toy trains) Always check to see if there is a parade going off downtown before you promise your four-year-old son you will go and buy him a toy at a specific store. The entire downtown Portland was barricaded off. The streets were jammed - the closest parking was a dozen blocks away. So we got out and legged it a mile or so in the rain; or I should say I legged it and the Peep rode the Daddy mule 90% of the way. After which, BTW, he announced "Wow! I'm reaaally tired!" when we got back to the truck. Serpent's tooth. And we missed the float catching fire. Dammit.]

(This is the float on fire. Really. No kidding. It was in the paper and everything...)

BUT - and you knew there'd be a but - we were having a fun time splashing in the pool as mommy finished her laps and came to announce that she and Peep were going to get Daddy's surprise (that is, my Father's Day gift). Peep asked where his surprise was. No, this was only Daddy's surprise.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

The tears. The shrieking. The complete and utter meltdown. By the time we got to the changing room he was ranting that he wasn't having fun, had never had fun, that the entire day was a horrible, no-fun experience, and that we were the meanest daddy and mommy (tip o' the mean daddy tile to Blue Gal) ever in the entire world.

The thing is - this isn't a one-off. He's been doing this a LOT. Every time we ask him what he wants, he wants a new toy. And that includes times when he's clutching a new toy! The boy is becoming a poster child for consumer excess.

Now we like getting him toys he likes. And for a while we had this little scheme going where he'd bag up his older toys, take them to Goodwill and get "new" old toys to play with. But this is getting a little crazy. The getting the toys is becoming more important than the playing with the toys. And that's just wrong.

So we need some regime change in the Department of Toy Aquisition. Time for the old political appointees to go, and a sweeping anti-greed initiative to clean house. The revolutionary paradigm must be: From the Parents according to their abilities; to the Peeper according to his needs.

Not wants. Get it, Peep?

Ooohhh, this is gonna be a loooong week.

Sure glad he's sweetie enough to be worth it or I'd be seriously drinkin' tonight...