Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Melissa and Doug: You only pose as granola crunching toymakers. You are actually evil. What gives?

Dear Melissa and Doug:

I have always thought of you as sweet, kind toymakers. Almost as sweet as Benny Hill's character in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, ready to fight evil, and most importantly, ready to save the children. Recently I was given some of your higher end puzzles, by another mother of a special needs child. I planned to use them and use them well, and when we'd gotten all I could get out of them I would pass them on to our Early Intervention Occupational Therapist who could give them to those less fortunate. Now, though, since I have uncovered your dastardly plans, I may have to consign these puzzles to the heap of toys requiring a ritual burning. Here is the puzzle in question. It looks nice, doesn't it?

Not only can a child put the pieces together, stimulating cognitive learning and giving parents an ideal tool with which to teach multiple concepts, all while appealing to a child's love of "things that go." And this is no ordinary puzzle. When the child has all the pieces in place, each of these vehicles' lights and sirens activate, giving a close and fairly realistic approximation of the actual sound these vehicles make in operation.

See the lights? Imagine the sound of the sirens. Now imagine the sound of the sirens at night. At 2:00 a.m., with decibel levels capable of waking a soundly sleeping two year old. At a distance of two rooms away from said sleeping child. And 15 feet from a naked and sleepy mother who was simply creeping through the house to get a quiet glass of water. A quiet glass, I said. In the kitchen. Not in the living room, where the puzzle was by itself, with nary a puzzle piece in place, nary a one. And no inquisitive child in sight, in fact, no one but the softly creeping mother in sight because all the lights were off and the house was quiet, as often happens during the night, when children sleep, and mothers sleepily stumble about in a dark and quiet house, not expecting either realistic lights or sirens in her fucking living room. When she is naked in the dining room and wasn't hoping for a visit from either the police or the ambulance service.  And when she was under the belief that the realistic lights and sirens would only activate when the final piece of the puzzle was put in place.

Melissa and Doug, the final piece is in place, now.  Just tell me where you live. 


  1. Bawhahahahahaha!

    Oia's M&D farm animal version will do the same thing!! Only it's the dog it seems to bother as for a moment he thinks he has intruders to kill!

  2. Lol! We had one of their puzzles that made animal sounds when they put the piece in. We discovered after almost having a number of heart attacks that if the pieces are out and you turn out the light it will set off the sounds also. That one was disposed of very quickly.

  3. OMG, this just totally made me crack up!!! I am sorry! For the longest time, we had some sort of toy that bawked like a chicken. I can't even remember what the toy looked like, all I can remember is the sound. And that I would be sitting at the kitchen table trying to do some work and all I could hear was a bawking chicken every so often but I never could find the thing amidst the tornado that was that playroom.

    Did you donate the thing yet?!

  4. I HATE those puzzles. They're probably banned under the Geneva Convention, but everyone keeps being fooled by the whole "crunchy granola!!!" facade.

    The Widget received a lovely little BigWheels tricycle for his birthday that makes all SORTS of lovely noises. Thank God that thing is for outdoor use. It would be awfully tragic for The Widget if his new toy was run over by a car.