We have toys for Robbie. Tons of them. It feels like I'm always tripping over something that lights up, plays music, or rolls across the floor. I find strange plastic items in my purse and under my pillow. In every room, there is something for Robbie to play with. Magnets in the kitchen. A stuffed moose in the bedroom. An activity table and car in the living room. Don't even get me started on the closets!
But what does Robbie want? Not the toys I painstakingly selected for his birthday. Nothing soft and cuddly or loud and obnoxious. No, my son wants what any true American boy wants: the broom and dustpan.
He's occasionally "swept" the floor for me when he's found the broom in the hallway. Today, he searched it out behind the exposed pipes in the kitchen. And, boy, did he get to work! Until his friend Pete came in and wanted to sweep the floor as well. It was a little touch-and-go for a few minutes, with both boys doing equal battle for the broom. But, rest assured! I came into motherhood well prepared and was quick to offer the boys a Swiffer as well. If only I had thought to put the Swiffer pad on... Maybe then everyone would have been happy: the boys with a new toy and me with clean floors.
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