A few weeks ago I hosted a giveaway for Nintendo and Lego Nijago and I had to choose the winner. Normally my giveaways are drawn by random or by the big cheeses from the company who have donated the prize. But I had to select this one myself. It was very stressful but one entry resonated with me in particular.
My Golden Old days were spent either in the house playing with lego or out the back with a soccer ball. When the weather was good I'd spend hours kicking the ball against the nearest hard surface. The problem for mum was that the nearest hard surface (without breakable windows) was the garage door.
One day, after being told not to kick it against it while mum was getting dinner ready, I was out the back kicking the ball against the garage door. Mum came steaming out, and murdered the soccer ball with the kitchen knife she had.
I totally got this. Further correspondence with the winner revealed that his mother was giving up smoking, which is perhaps why I felt some empathy towards her.
It has been 3 weeks today.
Which brings me to my own tale of frustration. Last night I was in my Lady Room watching tv, mainly waiting for Brynne to come on Dancing with the Stars. I kept hearing this annoying squeaky sound, then a giggle. It is what I would imagine Chucky would be doing as he hid in my cupboard with a long carving implement. I tracked down the source. It was in a handbag of mine. It was one of Jack's Zhu Zhu pets.
For those who do not know what a Zhu Zhu pet is, I will explain it in my own words.
A Zhu Zhu pet is a rodent sized electronic creature that makes random and unexplained noises for no reason in particular. It also moves. It is made in China and it is expensive. It is to kids now what Cabbage Patch kids were 30 years ago. ie. If you do not own several, you are a total loser.
So I picked up the Zhu Zhu pet (whose name turned out to be Patch) and turned it over, trying to find a switch to turn it off, all the while it making an offensive, high pitched squeal. I could not locate the switch. Mr Woog yelled from the lounge room.
"Can you turn off that noise?"
I was a little frustrated at this point, so I stuck it outside my door and pointed it towards the lounge room and watched it roll into Mr Woog's domain. Making the noise. And went back to watch Samantha dance.
The door opened a crack and Mr Woogs hand presented the Zhu Zhu pet. He dropped it on the floor and shut the door. The Zhu Zhu pet went a little crazy. And so did I.
I leaped out of bed, grabbed the bloody Zhu Zhu pet, stormed towards the front door, yanked it open and flung that Zhu Zhu pet into the darkness. I stood there breathing in and out and heard a very faint giggle coming from the garden. It reminded me of the time, during the Great Debate of 2008, when I flung Mr Woog's book into the garden. To be honest and historically correct, you could replace the word "book" with "blackberry" and "garden" with "road".
I came back into the house and Mr Woog knew immediately what I had done. He said that it was supposed to rain overnight and my motherhood guilt kicked in. It was about this time that the Zhu Zhu pet decided to shut the fuck up and so I spend a good part of last night in the pitch black looking for Patches by the light of my iPhone. When he was finally rescued, he spent the night in the laundry under a pile of towels.
I do not understand the appeal of Zhu Zhu pets and I doubt I ever will. It is a bit like jeggings, fish on a burger and trying to correctly complete a child's passport application. Impossible to understand but something I think I will have to learn to live with.
What is driving you loco at the moment?
