March 7, 2010 Magic Meatball
Do you remember the magic 8 ball? I never had one, but it seemed all my friends did. You would ask the magic 8 a question, shake it to death, and stare at the blueish water for the much-anticipated result.
I also remember filling out the MASH to determine who I would marry, how many children I would have, what my job would be, and what kind of house I would live in. (M-mansion, A-apartment, S-shack, or H-house.) I don’t think I would have ever guessed at the time I would have 4 kids, be married to such an incredible guy, and live in so many interesting places.
The other day we got a Magic Meatball from a kids meal at McDonald’s. The kids had no idea what to do with it, until I began to use it to manipulate them. “Should we leave McD.’s,” I asked
“The meatball says Yes.”
It was on. They began a series of questions. Can we have ice cream? Should we stay longer? Over time the questions have evolved. Is the meatball dumb? Do you like being a meatball?
Of course if they don’t like the answer they get they continue to ask until they get the answer they want and then try to use that as evidence. See? The meatball said yes. (Never mind the 10 times it said no.) Come to think of it, they do the same thing with me. (Can I have….? No! Please? No!) I think the older two understand it is just a toy. Sweet T. really thinks it can determine how things should be.