The curse passes on

Oh dear. I did it now. I fell victim to my own childhood sympathies for inanimate objects and have now validated those sympathies in my children.

Here's how it happened.

The boys made sand art ducks at today's street fest. They filled little plastic duck containers with layers of colorful sand, popped on a lid and voila, masterpieces were created. But the sand settled somewhat, allowing the colors to shake and shift. The three eldest were diligent to carry their ducks home carefully to preserve the distinct color striations, but Elijah had no such concern. His duck arrived home all one color -- brownish-blah.

Now here comes the part where I learn without a doubt that these are my children -- no switcheroos at the hospital.

Isaac and Luke were in tears over Elijah's poor duck that was doomed to a miserable existence of brownish-blahness. I understood completely. I recall finding a sad looking stuffed animal at a garage sale and begging to buy it and bring it home so that perhaps it wouldn't feel so terribly woebegone -- because stuffed animals have feelings, you know. Apparently sand art ducks do, too.

It took me many years to get over this irrational attribution of feelings to lifeless objects. I'm not certain I'm completely over it yet. Sometimes I still feel bad for toys left in storage.

So rather than trying to reason with my two overly-sympathetic boys, I blurted out the only thing that I thought would have comforted me as a child had I been in the same situation.

"The duck wants to be whatever color his owner wants him to be. If his owner is happy with his color, the duck is happy."

And of course it worked. I knew it would. But now I have verified the fact that toys have feelings! Augggg! I'm afraid I've cursed them to a lifetime of guilt for every toy they someday donate, sell or throw away!

And so the curse passes on to the next generation. Maybe, being boys, they'll outgrow the extreme sentimentality and properly teach their children that toys don't have feelings. I can only hope. It was more than I could do.