Death by Toy

I have a two year old who is obsessed with matchbox cars. I pretty much hate matchbox cars now, because they are dumb toys that don't do anything. DUMB DUMB DUMB. Not that I'm immature about the cars, but I defy anyone to maintain a great love for the cars when certain cars have to be taken from place to place and certain other cars must not be taken. My favorite car is the reject Daddy's Truck.

We had one black truck that looked like Daddy's Truck, and one day it was flung somewhere in the car. Since it was winter, I didn't want to dig for it, so after a cursory search, I bought a second Daddy's Truck. The first Daddy's Truck reappeared a few weeks later and I thought, ah, good, now we have a spare.

Except now the little nutjob (Luke) has somehow differentiated between the two (identical) trucks and the Reject Daddy's Truck sits on the table in the office. When the Approved Daddy's Truck is misplaced, I try to substitute RDT, which causes screams of "NOT THAT DADDY'S TRUCK!!"

My other favorite car is whichever one I step on at 2 AM when I'm going to change/feed a baby. Or the Fisher Price train. Or the sharp pointy tacks I let my child play with. Or maybe the boards with rusty nails protruding from them.