I’m sure many of you have experienced what I like to call “toy carnage” if you’ve ever been around a child for more than two seconds. It happens in the blink of an eye and it’s never pretty.
Say you just walked into your bedroom to get dressed. When you come back out two minutes later, your kid has dragged the entire contents of their toybox out into the front room and now Legos/Barbies/books/more-Happy-Meal-toys-than-you’d-like-to-admit are covering the floor. Or under the couch. Or behind the tv. Or floating in your glass of water. You don’t know how that kid managed to destroy your home so quickly, but they did.
Every once in a while, the mess is so bad that it looks like the toys acted out a scene from 300. An epic, bloody battle all in the time it took for me to go pee. Disney Princess dolls versus Little People… dollar bin jungle animals against a herd of My Little Pony. There are never any survivors. I should know, since I’m the one-woman clean up crew.
Today was one of those 300 days, except while I was collecting the bodies, I found something out of the ordinary…
…Someone was still standing.
Well played, Buzz.
(I didn’t stage a thing. This scene was brought to you by the chubby little hands of Jack.)