Morjes!

Welcome to my blog. I write about fitting in, sticking out, and missing the motherland as a serial foreigner.

Pony invasion

This morning, a friend of mine sent us home from her house with a box full of My Little Ponies that her eight-year-old daughter is done playing with. Miriam loves ponies, and before today, she was the proud owner of exactly one (1) My Little Pony. Her name was Snowflakes, and she was a special toy I bought at the Ben Franklin in Middlebury so Miriam could have something new to play with when Magdalena was born.

Today, we brought home the donated box of My Little Ponies and Miriam started to unload them and play with them while I took a shower. When I came back and turned the corner into the kitchen, this is what I saw:



Aye caramba! And those are just the ones with magnetic front legs. In all, I counted something like 20 ponies, with a few more baby My Little Ponies with plastic hair instead of "real" hair. It was pony mania in the kitchen. By my calculations, Miriam's pony stock shot up some 1900%, all in one day.

That's the funny thing about toys, isn't it? They just seem to multiply. It's not like we consciously sit down one day and decide that 19 ponies simply isn't enough anymore, and it's time to think about purchasing a 20th. It just comes on gradually, until one day you walk into your kitchen and there are two dozen ponies having a jamboree on the fridge door.

Needless to say, Miriam has been playing with the ponies all day long, including at church. After two hours in the church nursery, one of her teachers came up to me and said, "Miriam was talking about ponies a lot today."

I do not doubt it.

So tired. So very, very tired.

Flashback Friday: Shut the door!