I try to teach the Daughters to take care of their things.
I really try.
Especially when it is a gift from someone else.
Especially when it's a toy.
They have so many, I really worry about them being spoiled and never being satisfied with what they have...yada yada yada....
I want them to appreciate what they have and take care of their things.
Part of that is taking toys back inside when they are done playing with them outside. We have a dog. A big, young, lab who chews everything. Seen Marley & Me? Well, he's not THAT bad, but if you leave ANYTHING in the backyard (his territory) he will eat it, or at least demolish it. No matter what it is. He has eaten quite a few plastic bottles, cups, utensils, pencils, baskets, balls, wood, all of his toys, stuffed animals, flipflops...you get the idea. For some reason, thought, he won't chew bones.
Well, we have the conversation DAILY about bringing toys in from outside. In fact, I warn them everytime they bring a toy in the backyard that if they leave it there, Dog will probably eat it.
This morning I found one of First Daughter's stuffed dogs shredded and spread across our back lawn. Sad - I know. But this was not just any stuffed dog. It was one of those dogs that makes noises. One the growls if you step on it, makes drinking noises if you give it a bottle, licks a bone if you give him one, pants if you pet him. One of those.
I picked up all the stuffing and shreds this morning and put them in our garbage. I made sure to show First Daughter before getting rid of the evidence hoping she would be sad enough (wihtout rubbing it in too much) that she would take better care of her toys next time. She told me, without skipping a beat "It's ok Mom, I can just play with something else." Good...? I think...? Shouldn't she at least be a little sad?
Anyway, that's not the point. The point is -
I'm sitting here eating lunch, checking me email, all the kids are asleep, the house is quiet...
and my garbage can is growling and barking at me.
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4 comments:
you make me laugh! i love the way you write (:
hah hah! poor dead doggie!
When we lived in West Yellowstone we lived in a very small apartment, all six of us. All three girls were in one bedroom and their toys and clothes sometimes were a foot deep. It was a wading hazard. One day while they were gone to school I scooped everything up in big garbage bags and threw them down in the basement accross the motel parking lot. A place they never went. I told them it was gone. I was tired of telling them to pick it all up. It was usually stuffed under their beds when I told them to clean up. They were miserable. Life was at an end. They needed their things around them. About six weeks later I went and got the bags and made them sort through it all and get rid of most of it. They had sooooooo many dress-ups.
tee hee hee...
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