Give the Boys some Plates

Amusing three-year-olds is an art from. And being that Cyrus is the second three-year-old to come through the ranks in our house I am after my Masters Degree in this art form. Well, aim high, right?

We recently attempted a shopping trip in IKEA. Which coincidentally is the word Cyrus learnt to say, right after 'Mumma', 'Dadda' and 'No'. Okay, fine. It was the first word the kid said. So, we go there a bit. So what? There are worse sins people.

Anyhoo, Cyrus and I were making our way through the delicious windy paths, much like the yellow brick road taking us to All-The-Stuff-I-Didn't-Know-I-Needed. I was employing all my Mommy tricks for keeping him happy while I played with all the Big Girl Toys. (There's a lot to push, pull and generally muck with in those stores- delightful!)

I gave Cyrus the little pencil complete with IKEA order form to draw on. I gave him a quick turn on the twirly chair. I let him open all the drawers in the display kitchen (okay, that was me). But after an hour of looking, and me still not being done, Cyrus was making a game out of chase me down the breakables isle. Clearly I needed diversion. Or a straight jacket. Are they illegal for kids? Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, the diversion.

Stuffing some plastic plates into my sunshine yellow IKEA bag of happiness I went to catch my child before the stack of glass cups caught him first. (relax, this ends better than you think it will)  Cyrus saw me and started to run. But then he stopped. The plastic plates pile behind me caught his eye. Miracle of miracles the boy came back of his own accord. He looked at the plates and peered into my shopping bag pulling them out.
"Oh wow, Mommy. I like these, do I!"
Well, who who have thought. Plastic plates. Of course. The perfect diversion. So I let him hold the plates. Situation conquered. Right?
Sure.

He held those plates through the rest of the store. He held them through the check-out. He held them on the way to the car. He held them on the 30 min drive  home. And when we got home I naively thought the game was up and we could now put the plates away. After all I did actually buy these plates for my kids to eat off at some stage. But I realized the error in my judgement when I tried to take the plates off him.

Bursting into fat sobbing tears Cyrus looked up at me and said, "But I love my plates Mommy. I wanna  take them to bed."
They were pretty plates. Like over sized flat candy. Six in total. All the colors of a crayon drawn rainbow.

"You really like those plates, Bubba?" I asked
"Uh huh, and I want to cuddle them in bed. There my plates. You bought them for me. I like them, do I." He was stroking them by this stage. No, I am not joking.
Taking my hands off his plates I said, "Yes, yes you do. And they are all yours."
Hey, for two dollars I can get some more.

Who said happiness had to be extravagant and hard to find? I got my master's degree today people. Just sayin. And I have a smile. Right now, in the middle of really tough re-writes, I'll take any reason to be happy. Writing is not for the faint of heart. Maybe I should go back and buy myself some of those rainbow plates to cuddle?

IKEA, oh land of plastic happiness, I love you, do I.

What about you? Got yourself some rainbow plates to keep you company while writing? If you take them to bed, I don't want to know. :)