Jan
18
A while ago, I gave both boys a container of Silly Putty. Riley was only briefly interested in what I remember as being the sole entertaining aspect of Silly Putty — pressing it into the comics page so you have a rubberized Garfield that you can stretch into nightmarish Videodrome proportions — but Dylan was super fascinated with his glow-in-the-dark putty-egg and quickly squirreled it away into his bedroom.
Within a day, he had:
• Smashed the putty into every part of his bed, including his pillows, blankets, and sheets, leaving behind swaths of neon green plastic residue that has thus far resisted my every attempt at removal
• Stuck it on his wall, where it slowly oozed downward until it took on the appearance of a hawked loogie
• Plastered it on the bathroom mirror at a height which implied he’d had to climb onto the counter just to find the most inconvenient placement
• Crushed it into a chair cushion in the living room
And for his grand finale before he received a lifelong Putty Ban:
• Smoothed it over a hot lightbulb and cheerfully observed it bubbling and hissing before his brother thankfully ratted him out
This is the kind of poor decision-making that can prompt you to search your child’s head for skull fractures, right? I’m not saying I’m going to cash in the college fund immediately, I’m just saying the package says ages 3 and up.
I’d been been lightly teasing him about his Reign of Dimethyl Siloxane Terror, until I did the following, all in one afternoon:
• Bit the inside of my cheek while eating an apple
• Bit the same painful spot again while doggedly finishing off the same apple
• Over-enthusiastically tasted a spoonful of broth that had been simmering on the stove for nearly eight hours
• While casting about for something to soothe the pain, I grabbed an ice cube and pressed it to my tongue
• Where it immediately stuck, Christmas Story style
• So I panicked and ripped it free with a horrifying Velcro noise
• Leaving me with a swollen cheek-bite; a raw and bleeding tongue; and a fabulouth lisp
Well. I’ve experienced this time and time again, but apparently I needed a very bad mouth day to be reminded there’s no age limit to bringing forth a comedy of errors with your own damnfool choices.
This was a great post – I sympathize with your putty residue removal attempts. I am terrible about waiting for food to cool and then whine about the resulting burns.
At leasth he didn’t get it tangled up in hith hair, right?
Girl, I feel you.
My children went to a b-day party last weekend and the cruel parents who are now on my hit list supplied something in the goodie bag I can only describe as goo. Similar in consistency to hair gel, it’s disconcertingly cool and slimy but has otherworldly properties to remain in blob shape and roll about the floor/counter/glass like something from a horror movie. My rookie mistake was saying “only play in the kitchen!” where there is no carpet. That lasted about 5 seconds and guess what happens to the goo when a kid leaves it in a blob on the carpet and you leave to go get pizza and come back 2 hours later?
So curious as to Dylan’s thinking behind all this experimentation. What was he trying to discover? You may have a budding scientist on your hands!
You are hilarious!!!! I’ve done all of that too.
I’m sorry for your pain but…thanks for the mid afternoon work doldrums laugh!
My son went through a brief silly putty phase. (Brief, because we refused to buy it for him anymore after he got it all over the couch and his blanket. Ugh.) Strangely, ice worked really well to remove it. You hold an ice cube on it, and then it hardens and you can just chip it off of the couch. Of course, you may have some crazy ice-resistant strain of putty, but it’s worth a try!
We also just recently instituted a putty ban! To get it off bedding, use rubbing alcohol. It dissolves it enough so that you can then wash it on the hot cycle and it should be all gone. This even works on heirloom crocheted afghans knitted by your dead grandmother. Ask me how I know.
I, very recently, put on headphones to listen to music so not to bother the family while doing some stuff around the house. Listened to said music for nearly half an hour before I realized I didn’t actually plug the headphones in.
This post produced a series of sympathetic winces, particularly your personal set of unfortunate events.
I once grabbed an ice cube from the freezer when I’d just washed my hands and they were still wet. The cube stuck to my finger and my GOD it was so unexpectedly painful!
I have to admit, the first half of the post I nodded sagely at each point, smugly thinking “THIS is why I don’t let putty or goo into the hands of my children, EVER.” I hate cleaning, and having something sticky around just means that I’d have to do more cleaning above my standard very-low-bar level, so it was pre-emptively banned in our house years ago. I’m not even a fan of playdoh or plasticine, and try to keep it on a hardwood-floored level of the house.
Girls got silly putty all over one of the quilts we have on the couch – dry cleaner was able to get it all out using their chemical magic :)
I had some good belly laughs from your stories. Thanks Linda!
People who design these things clearly do not have children. Another classic: the balls-o-hell toy called Bunchems. Read the 1-star reviews on Amazon for entertainment. My mom called me last Christmas to ask if it was a good idea to give these to our 7 year-old daughter. Thankfully, I read the reviews first as she has long hair AND we have two Golden Retrievers!
I love him. He’s so me. And so are you! Wd40.
Me: Watch where you’re going! Just, you know, be aware of your surroundings! *gesturing around and then tripping and falling halfway down the stairs*