Monday, March 09, 2009

Simple Pleasures: Pom-Poms

We (my that I mean my wife) had as a project, to while away the time on a Sunday afternoon (easily the toughest parenting day at my kids' age - they need to be occupied and we still haven't built the hamster style energy-saving flywheel for them to scamper around in) to put together their Purim costumes. Since both my boys are addicted to Thomas the Tank Engine and associated products (an addiction I encouraged back in the day, more on that another time), the idea was to make train costumes. And to do so, we (again, my wife alone, mea culpa) had to go out and buy art supplies.

Now, I love art supplies. Always have. And my sons are chips off the old block. But the best part was how my youngest developed a sudden, and intense, lust for the fuzzy art supply pom-poms.

When my wife and two kids returned home, my youngest was clutching the bag of pom-poms as if it were a teddy-bear (did he know?). He wanted to have the bag opened immediately and I can imagine he was hoping to dive into the poms like Scrooge McDuck.

When I came back, after an hour or so, to the art-room (the basement playroom), it turned out that my youngest had opened both bags and had systematically strewn the poms all over the floor. It looked like, and I said so at the time, a muppet had exploded.

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