Life with Scoop, Part Two

 Scoop's true colors by Melissa Lyons 2004

It was a dark, stormy night. The cold wind blew in from the windows with an eerie howl. Okay, so it was actually closer to 2:00 am, and it wasn't stormy or cold. The house wasn't even eerie until I heard a voice. 

It hushed, whispered again, and stopped. Assuming the voice was one of my children, I rose to help them. Checking their beds, I thought, "Please let the other two still be asleep, please." All three children were sound asleep in bed. 

I'll admit, some panic was setting in now. Hearing the voice again, I quickly grabbed the phone to dial 911 and headed for the stairs. The voice fell silent again. I listened but to no avail. Deciding to head down and take a quick look, I kept a thumb on the dial button. 

There was still no voice until, after seeing no one, I tip toed around the corner. Halfway through the living room I hear, CAN YOU DIG IT! Scoop. No, I can't. I most definitely cannot and never will dig it! Needless to say, I was glad I didn't call the police. Can you imagine the embarrassment?

“Help, help! Someone's broke into my home!” I plea, while reduced to frightened tears at the sight of Scoop.

"Ma'am, can you describe them?" Asks a sincerely, worried 911 operator.

"Yes, he's yellow, about a foot and a half tall, and keeps repeating can you dig it and let's play over and over and over and over!" Cries a wild and erratic me, remember

Scoop drove me to this state of craziness.

 Me made crazy by an evil toy @ 2004 Melissa Lyons

"Um, I'll send an officer and an ambulance right over, just stay caaaalm." States a confused, and now very worried 911 operator. That's okay, I've always liked the pretty quilted walls and the beautiful fitted white blazer I get after those calls. What's that? They're padded?

Since then, Scoop has spent many nights buried deep, deep within the toy box.

I will not fall prey to this toy’s tricks again. Besides, soon there will be a life without Scoop, soon.

Update: March 29, 2006 - Scoop, our beloved toy, had led a hard but well-played life. After his long battle with several cars and the trashcan, Scoop fell victim to the Battery Crisis of 2005. My father and oldest son spent many long tear-filled nights attempting to save him (well, more like laughing while planning). However, it is with our deepest regrets we were unable to save his uni-body and upgrade him into a solar hybrid.

Farewell dear Scoop, my son will miss you.

© 08-2004 - 2014 Melissa C. Lyons

Life with Scoop, Part One

My youngest son received Bob the Builder's Scoop under the Christmas tree many years ago. It was the big, yellow crane that spoke those joyful phrases whenever the moment struck it. My son’s smile was so beautiful and lit up the entire room when he saw it. I knew Scoop was the sweetest gift for him. He loved it very much. 

My son watched Bob the Builder every afternoon with Scoop. They played most days scooping dirt in the yard or bathing in the tub. Sometimes, Scoop was even carefully tucked into bed with him as the little one drifted off into sleep. 

It seemed so perfect, but now I know the truth. This toy was actually a colorfully disguised evil presence hell bent on providing me sleepless nights for the rest of its unnatural life. Scoop had the absolute worst timing to announce phrases like "Let’s play," "Good job!" and "Can you dig it!" 

For instance, when my children’s cat was lost, Scoop announced a very enthusiastic, "Good job!" during mommy's, I'm-so-sorry speech. My son sobbed even harder, my daughter ran from the room, and I wanted to send Scoop to the basement, forever. 
 
Scoop, the wonderful yellow toy from hell, also tended to speak up during those big arguments parents have with their teenagers. The toy ruined what little hope I had of them actually listening and retaining what I said. Of course, my two oldest thought this was hilarious. 

I was hoping maybe Scoop would accidentally lose its batteries. It did, sadly my son replaced them. Since when do 4-year-olds know how to use a screwdriver? We even had to move it the other end of the house, downstairs, so I could sleep through the night. What a horrible idea. - Life with Scoop, Part Two

 © 08-2004 Melissa C. Lyons