Back when I bought absolutely EVERYTHING on my Airmiles Mastercard, I had amassed quite a princely sum of points that were beseeching me to spend them. And spend them I did.
I eschewed travel and opted for stuff. Free stuff that began showing up at my doorstep every couple days for the space of about two weeks. I have rarely enjoyed coming home from work as much as I did for that brief spurt of time. There is a part of me that is a materialistic bastard and I wallowed in one or two of the deadly sins for a time. Among my stuff I received:
A 6-man Coleman tent
A Coleman propane lantern
High-powered binoculars
And the crown jewel of my free stuff:
A 5-disc Sony CD/DVD player with surround-sound speaker system.
This last item has never seen such use as it has for the past several months. With my stalwart and chronically fatigued pregnant wife sometimes struggling to keep her eyes open during the day in order to supervise our son, the hero of the day has been the DVD player.
The first slot is a constantly rotating movie of choice, but the last four seem to be permanently ensconced in their respective spinny thingies:
Shrek
Shrek 2
The Incredibles
Finding Nemo
Declan now expectantly, and with a palpable sense of anticipation, will finish his breakfast, drink his milk and join his mother in the living room to watch his cartoon heroes save the day in the exact same fashion as was seen just the day prior.
His mouth puckers up to form two very distinct syllables. "Oo-ee!" He can't yet start with the M or add the V in the middle, but his unerringly pointed finger yields no uncertainty about what he wants.
He cries when he sees Buzz Lightyear topple from the banister in his failed attempt at flight, sharing in the horrible realisation that he is JUST A TOY! He cheers and laughs hysterically when Dash finds that he can run on water and evades Syndrome's sinister flying henchmen. He stares rapt and silent as Shrek and Donkey make their way over the rickety bridge to the dragon-guarded castle to save the beautiful Princess Fiona. (again)
And when one movie ends and the credits roll, he is quickly cajoling a nearby parent to play it again.
"Ebbles!" he prompts imperiously, jabbing his chubby sausage finger at the TV. He's just finished watching The Incredibles for the second time that day, but insists on watching it again; and has been known to break down in huge, horrible crocodile tears at the spectre of a suddenly blank screen where just a second prior had been a glut of pixelated entertainment.
His traumatic outbursts are very short-lived, since Bob the Builder has a book from which it is terribly fun to rip the pages, and a blanket cast over his head with two dogs nosing about at the strange amoeba brings new sources of hysteria. He's still very good at entertaining himself without his animated heroes.
I'm not overly concerned yet that he sits inattentive and drooling in front of the TV for several hours at a time, but I'm going to run screaming for the sledgehammer in the garden shed when he refuses to be placated by anything but.
We'll have to give up on him at that point and focus all our attention on the second child, since he'll be lost to us.
The One-Eyed Babysitter is a terribly dangerous double-edged sword.
