Misfit Toys, part 1

A good friend of the family recently gave Connor a really cool toy. It's a professional-grade duck puppet. It's got some different "levers" (for lack of a better, or more accurate, word) inside the head that I can't quite figure out how to operate (aside from the beak, which works just how you think it would), and it's got openings in its wings and feet for rods that can make the duck "move." It's not quite as cool as The Swedish Chef's hands, but a puppet with movable limbs is still pretty cool. It makes the marionette that I made in 3rd grade out of pantyhose and fishing line look pretty pathetic, by comparison.



See? Good stuff right?

But, even though Connor loves snuggling with the duck, there's just something about this toy that I can't get past. In order to operate the puppet, you have to —— you know — stick your hand and two-thirds of your arm up its butt. It just feels wrong. It doesn't help that, nine times out of ten, when Connor discards the puppet, it's lying face down in a corner somewhere with its, uh, butt-sleeve facing you.



I'm just waiting for the day that this kid discovers this particular feature of the puppet and starts carrying it around upside down, using its body cavity as a carrying bag, stuffing random toys inside it and dragging the puppet around by its feet. Maybe I've seen Toy Story too many times, but I just don't think that this duck enjoys having my arm (or Connor's toys) up its butt. Would you?