I like buying toys for people. Not just kids, but people. I have a long-held belief that everyone loves toys and wish to have an excuse to play like they did as children. Some people appreciate this; some think it’s pretty weird. Obviously I buy more toys for the people who appreciate this unique belief of mine. Like my dad.
Some time in high school, I started buying my dad police toys for Christmas. Not every Christmas, just every other one. I would find the most interesting, possibly loudest police toy I could find and present it to my dad. He in return would take it to the obvious to annoy people when he needed a laugh. It worked out well.
Until I had boys.
Until my dad retired.
Bringing home all those loud cop toys.
The first one was a motorcycle with lights and sound, even drove by itself, that my dad “accidently” left at my house. “But my grandsons enjoy it so much.” Um, thanks.
Then yesterday my dad showed Evan a police car that activated with a clicker or any loud noise. The thing would turn on its lights and siren and drive in some random direction. If it was stuck on something when activated, it would just go backwards. Another click or loud noise, the car shuts down. Very clever little toy. Except ANY loud noise activates it.
Any loud noise. Like a clap. A snap. A stomp. A yell. A song. Talking. TV. A YELL.
And sometimes it doesn’t go off. It just goes and goes and goes and goes.
I’ll tell you one thing. It’s going back to Grandma and Papi’s.