Thanks to our puppy, the previously mentioned Ellie "Bane of Gadgets," and her current chewing phase, our house is in a state of lock down. Everything that could be chewed -and even things you wouldn’t think of as prime puppy targets- gets locked up in cabinets or behind closed doors. At least that’s the theory. There are kids in this equation too, and that means there are slip-ups.
Which would explain the current condition of the boys’ Star Wars action figures collection, or what I refer to as the George Lucas Trauma Center. It’s horrific, really and I’m not just talking about the 8 bucks a throw that’s being flushed away because of severed limbs, chewed blasters, gummed torsos and even outright decapitations. It looks plain grim- like the collection of castaways belonging to Sid the toy-torturer from Toy Story. Other parents don’t necessarily know that our dog has acquired a taste for Hasbro plastic when one of the boys shows up at their house with a Chewbacca suffering from an amputated foot…
And speaking of being flushed away, one of the boys somehow came to the conclusion that Jango Fett, or what was left of him, deserved a burial at sea and flushed him. We’re still waiting for that ticking time bomb to go off. It’s been all clear for a few days now, but I think we all know that Jango Fett can’t be trusted to go away quietly…
Last night Ellie chewed up my Apple TV remote. That poor wee white Apple remote was apparently just too tempting. It was chomped up to the point that even the battery had bite marks on it. All the remotes (even the ugly ones) are now secured in a box in the rec room, which has the bonus effect of curbing my electronic sprawl somewhat.
Instead of replacing the disfigured action figures (and other casualties), we’re currently plowing our money into Dentabones, training and bitter apple spray.
A few of the casualties -most of them are hiding somewhere (and I don’t blame them).
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