These, Squinkies, don't like 'em.
I can honestly say I hate these. They end up everywhere, and their little balls too. Those little egg balls they come in, that are all. over. my. house! Now I have to admit, my kids have hours of fun with these; which come at the low, low price of $6 for a 15 pack. But really, when you consider that almost half of them are lost within an hour of play, not such a good deal.
In case you missed it, check out my theory of multiplicity, Squinkies apply here.
I do not know why disorganized kids' toys drive me crazy, but it does. I have some serious OCD in this area. I'm a firm believer in the, "you're done playing with it, put it away before you get another toy out" approach. However, this hardly EVER works in my house because my kids are smarter than me. And sometimes I don't enforce it. Nothing to see there.
They have to pull a little bit of everything out from everywhere, and who am I to squelch imagination? But it makes me want a vodka tonic, for sure. You see the Squinkies must live in the My Little Pony houses, have Barbie pets and accessories, Thomas the train track roads for Hotwheels, and a stuffed animal jungle beyond the border, oh yes, in a fort made from every blanket we own as their cave.
It gets out of hand quick around here. So I suck it up and say, okay have your city, play on. Although I have inadvertently knocked down some members in the parade because I can't tip-toe around it with precise ninja stealthiness. Then there is an uproar. Good grief.
I don't want to talk about clean-up time. I'm defeated. They are against me. Send help.