Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Time for the attic, Jumperoo

When Mary was a baby, we bought one of those Jumperoo things that takes up half the living room and makes sounds and lights up. The batteries died sometime when Anna was small, because when I pulled it out of the attic for Lily, the plastic rainforest sang no more. I was okay with that, because it had a tendency to go off when you walked by it and nothing will scare you more than random frogs croaking when you go for a glass of water at 2 a.m.

Lily was not a big fan of the Jumperoo. (Just like she was not a big fan of the swing we shelled out big bucks to buy. Of course.) But I'm lazy and the attic is crowded, so for the past six or so months, it's sat in the corner of the living room, pretty much ignored except for the five minutes a month or so Lily will deign to sit in it.

Maybe I should have replaced the batteries.

Of course, Anna loves the thing and continually tries to climb in, whereupon she gets stuck and has to ask for help.

"Anna get out of that jumper," My husband said in exasperation as she attempted to climb in for the fiftieth time the other evening. "You didn't like it when you were a baby so I don't want to see you using it now." (Logic, we have it.)

She got out, but only until this afternoon. She had climbed in with her shoes on and was therefore completely incapable of hauling her three year old butt out of said apparatus.

"Momma, I stuck in this jumper," she said, attempting to spin around. "Can you help me?"

I sighed and scooted my chair backwards.

"Nevermind, I guess I just stayin' in this jumper," said Anna the Impatient. "I just stay in here."

"No, no, you're coming out," I said, attempting to dislodge her foot from the too small leg opening in the seat.


"Because it's time," I said, rejecting all the common sense and obvious answers that started with "you're not a baby any more" and ran all the way to "how many times do we have to tell you?" in a less than motherly tone.

"Oh good," she said when she was firmly back on the floor. "Now I can go poop." And she beat feet out of the room like she was on fire.

Dear God, I shudder to think about what would have happened in a few minutes.

That thing is going in the attic.


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