Cheap Toys

My son turned six last week. The fact that this event occurred with my sanity still in check is quite an accomplishment for me as a parent, but it's not really worth writing about in and of itself. In order for an event like a sixth birthday to become newsworthy, someone has to do something stupid, silly, strange, or brilliant. Last week, I think I witnessed one event that fits into all four of those categories. (And as I was watching it, I promised to write about it, so here's to keeping my word!)

It all started a few days after my son's birthday. My sister had gotten him a set of little plastic helicopters that fly into the air when a string is pulled on the launching pad. We had just finished dinner when we heard Zach come around the corner with his new toy in hand and say, "Grandpa, watch this!" He then gave the string a quick tug and the helicopter zipped up into the air. "Now you try it," he suggested.

So Grandpa took hold of the toy and gave the string a tug. You might think because I used the word "Grandpa" to describe my wife's father that I am trying to indicate that he is old and frail. Although he is recently retired and has to watch his weight for the first time in his life, he must still have some pep in the old arms because that poor string didn't stand a chance against his mighty tug. As he pulled, the helicopter took to the air and the busted string zipped back inside the safety of the launchpad and out of sight. Not to worry. Grandpa quickly offered to take the toy home and return it to its former glory.

That was part one of the story. Fast forward with me a couple more days. It is now my nephew's birthday party. Jack eagerly opened his presents and was thrilled to find a little plastic helicopter set with a launching pad. As Grandpa looked it over, I could tell he was reminiscing about the inner workings of the toy and trying to recall all of the tricks he had applied during the first repair. Then I noticed something that no one else caught. While all eyes were on the flying helicopter, he glanced down at his right arm and smiled as he tightened his fist and flexed his grandfatherly muscles. "Yeah, I still have it," he must have been muttering to himself.

Just as the folks in China had planned, the newest helicopter toy was broken within an hour. At this point, Grandpa Muscles had yet to reveal to Jack or anyone else that, because of his past experience, he was actually a certified plastic helicopter repair engineer. Since Jack's other grandpa was also at the party, Grandpa Muscles decided, that in the spirit of fairness, he would let the other old guy have a go at it first. Other Grandpa gave the toy a good look for a few minutes before deciding that he was going to have to open it up. While he was waiting for some tools to arrive, Grandpa Muscles started imparting his knowledge to Other Grandpa. Soon Jack's dad returned with a set of small screwdrivers. Within just a few minutes, all three men were peering over the open carcass of the dead toy.

"I think it needs a farkenwalter on the spindlebob," Other Grandpa said.

"That might work, but did you consider winding the toodlehop first?" Jack's dad suggested.

"I've done this before," Grandpa Muscles announced. "Can't you tell that the hooptiwhatzit is disconnected from the drooner?"

"Ahhh, you have a point there," the other certified plastic helicopter repair engineer trainees replied in unison. Together the three men twisted, turned and pried the various plastic components into a plethora of arrangements. After a few minutes one of them pulled the string and everything was suddenly back to normal working condition.

"What did you do?" Grandpa Muscles asked.

"I didn't do anything to that part," Other Grandpa replied.

"Neither did I," Jack's dad said. "It must have fixed itself."

As I sat in the living room silently observing the process, I thought to myself, there has to be a joke about this; something like, "How many old dudes does it take to fix a little dude's toy?"

Apparently the answer is three, but it's not a joke.