Written by Amanda Coop
As Christmas Day draws ever closer, I just want to be the first to extend my sympathies to those parents who will wake up to the sounds of the pooping flamingo on December 25.
I won’t be one of them. I’ve already vetoed the bright pink toy bird that sits on a plastic toilet, swaying, while singing “Uh oh, gotta go,” in a tune that’s unfortunately quite catchy. It even actually “poops” – educational toys, eat your heart out.
I must give props to the makers of said bird. My kids thought it was hilarious and instantly asked if they could have it. The answer, sorry kids, was a big fat NOPE.
“Maybe Santa will bring it,” Mr 5 said, giggling.
“He’d better not,” I said.
“Anyway, we’ve already done our Santa lists so I think it will be too late.”
“Dang it,” said Mr 5, disappointed for about five seconds before he moved on to see what his sister and cousin were looking at, which just happened to be some sort of noisy space blaster gun that made the flamingo seem positively civilised. He looked up at me. “We’ve done the list, remember?” I cut in before he could say anything. “And Dad will divorce me if I bring that thing home.”
I quietly patted myself on the back for getting them to do their lists early so I could shoot down any unnecessarily annoying suggestions.
We’ve still got last year’s Boppi the Booty Shaking Llama (thanks Uncle Timmy) who is taken from the shelf periodically to swing his furry butt around to his catchy tune, but at least he’s cute, unlike the awful Bluetooth microphone with voice effects that can probably be heard on the other side
of the planet.
That particular fail can be blamed on Santa, although I have it on good authority that had Santa known it would be so skull-penetratingly loud, he would have had the elves drop an anvil on it rather than let it leave the workshop.
Sadly, the charging cord for the microphone got lost in transit when we moved to a new house this year and I have made zero effort to find it.
I mustn’t forget the Uncle Timmy special circa Christmas 2011 or 12, which was a plush toy beaver singing Justin Bieber’s Baby. You shouldn’t have. No, really.
YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE.
To be fair, it was probably revenge for the Indiana Jones whip I’d given my nephew a few years before, which sang the theme song to the famous films every time you cracked it. Childless at the time, it was one of a number of loud and/or annoying gifts I’d given my nephew over the years and I thought it was hilarious. Apparently, my brother didn’t.
I’m not sure what irritating bits and pieces will await us under the tree this year but, let’s face it, after the year that 2020’s been, anything that makes us and our kids laugh will probably be well received.
maybe it won’t be. Maybe your kids will receive the most intolerable things yet and you’ll have them up on eBay by day’s end. It’s still 2020. Perhaps the pooping flamingo is fitting, after all.