Death by Tiny Toys: that’s the headline I hear in my head at least once a week in my house. How many times do I have to scream, “Pick up your toys?” Last night I rolled over and a Littlest Pet Shop was in my ribs. I just damn near died from these Cutie Cars being left in the middle of the kitchen floor. I was tryna be the good mom and make homemade pizza bagels, baking sheet in my hand, pulling the fresh baked bread out of the oven. I turned around to take my oven mitts off and sat them on the counter. Next thing I know, I step on something little and hard and the damn thing has wheels! After my ass road it 5 feet, I hit the floor! As I lay on the floor, I look over… my daughters face is beet red, her eyes were wide, and she had her hand over her mouth. I know she wanted to laugh but was 2 scared. At this point I was tired and pissed! I didn’t even have the strength to yell. I looked at her and said in almost a whisper tone, “Pick your toys up off the floor.” She jumped up really fast and said, “Yes, Ma’am”, and off she went running with her Cutie Cars in her hand, into her room. Her little feet pit pattered like she was running some kind of race. I heard her mumble, “I am in big trouble.” At that moment I realized getting off the floor at 43 years old wasn’t as easy as it used to be.
Who invented these tiny little toys, they hurt when you step on them? I know whoever sits in an office and thinks these things up they don’t have children of their own. If they did, they would realize it’s one thing to fall over a big toy it’s a whole other thing to step on some little shit that pierces your feet!
I can’t be the only parent out there who doesn’t love these tiny toys, right?