My mother has the almost divine gift of giving my children gifts that seems completely harmless and wonderful but are actually hand-crafted by Satan himself.
Last week she bought them tape measures. Why, why, why would someone buy two four year olds tape measures, you ask?
“Because they like them! They are interested in measuring things.”
Yeah, they are probably also interested in nuclear reactions but you don’t see me setting up a graphite cooling tank for a DIY nuclear power plant.
Anyhow, the boys were the proud owners of two red tape measures with (seriously) metal measure-y tape-y thingys. It couldn’t be cloth or paper, could it, Mom. It HAD to be metal? What sort of atrocities did I accomplish as a child to make you punish me so?
Needless to say, the boys have been going all Wolverine on each other with those friggin’ tape measures since the moment they were placed in their hot little hands. But, the real kicker was when one of those mother fluffing measures got in to the washing machine.
Do you know what a 4ft long metal tape measure does inside a washing machine? I do. It funks up your business. Big time.
I didn’t know it was even possible to tie a metal tape in to a square knot…