Some do-gooder mom passed down Satan's Book. It is a giant book with rancid poems accompanied by a button that plays electronic, screeching, piercing renditions of classical music. Not a few bars but like 30 seconds per song. That doesn't sound terrible?
It is like calling someone, getting their fax machine, not being able to hang up and having your toddler scream "ONE MORE TIME!" for an hour.
Not one to ever hurt a book, I have made an exception. I have "accidently" stepped on, stomped on, spilled water/juice/wine upon, tossed to dog as a chew doy...this book won't die. Thanks a lot, "Made in China."
I finally snuck it into the garage and after a small memorial service, Baby Boy had come to terms with the fact that his cousin had stolen the book.
Until tonight, when I got home and heard Canon in D screeching from the living room.
Darling Husband sat with BB, "Look! I found his favorite book behind the trash cans!"
I turned and locked myself in the bedroom. We will see how long before DH runs it over with his car.
You've gotta go for the batteries. Sorry, buddy, the batteries don't work anymore and they don't make them anymore. If he can open up the battery case (or if daddy does), snip the wires leading up to it. Hee-hee!
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