Big boys like to play with their little toys |

Big boys like to play with their little toys

Heidi Rice
Post Independent
Glenwood Springs, CO Colorado

“Why do you look so guilty?” Husband-Head slowly asked in a suspicious voice right after walking through the door after work. “What have you done now?”

I hung my head and didn’t say anything at first.

“C’mon, just tell me and get it over with,” Husband-Head sighed. “How much is it going to cost me?”

Clearly, he thought it involved the car.

“I played with it,” I finally admitted. “I couldn’t help myself.”

I could see the relieved expression on Husband-Head’s face.

“Do you want to tell me exactly what it is you played with?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Your toy,” I confessed. “I played with that toy my mother gave you.”

We had just celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary, and my mother had given Husband-Head a battery-operated, remote control toy helicopter. Why? I don’t know. Probably because it’s no secret that even in his mid-40s, Husband-Head still enjoys games and toys. And hence, the playhouse was born. For our 15th anniversary, I decided to have a few people over for drinks and dinner. These people were also our age, although I’m sure Husband-Head would have been just as happy if I’d invited everyone from the set of the old “Romper Room” show.

If you are a baby boomer, there’s a good chance you remember the TV show “Romper Room,” which aired between 1953 and 1994. with the “Pop Goes the Weasel” theme song from the Mattel Jack-in-the-Box toy as well as the rhyme recited at the end of the show.

“Romper, bomper, stomper boo. Tell me, tell me, tell me, do. Magic mirror, tell me today. Have all my friends had fun at play?”

Wouldn’t it be fun to have a job writing that stuff?

Anyway … our friends came over, and my mother bestowed gifts upon us to celebrate our 15 years of matrimonial bliss in which she didn’t have to fork over any money for attorney’s fees in the event of a divorce.

I got a bathrobe.

Husband-Head, on the other hand, got a remote control “Silver Bullet” flying plastic helicopter.

“I think she thinks of you as her GRANDson, not her son-in-law,” I hissed to Husband-Head when I saw what it was.

Husband-Head didn’t care.

“Whatever,” he shrugged. “At least I didn’t get an ugly bathrobe.” With that, he began placing batteries in his new toy.

The rest of us – grown-ups drinking adult beverages – sat at tables and intensely discussed very adult-like topics such as the president’s health care reform plan and who had responsibly undergone – or totally blown off – their annual colonoscopy.

“I don’t think it’s all that bad,” one woman slurred. “In fact, I really don’t mind it at all.”

It was funny to see how much attention she got from the men the rest of the evening. …

But as we held this very intellectual discussion, all of a sudden there was this ruckus coming from behind.

A little helicopter was flying about one foot off the ground … followed by one of our huge yellow Labrador retrievers … followed by Husband-Head with the remote control device, laughing his butt off.

However, it seems that Husband-Head did not exactly know how to drive his new little toy very well as it slammed into a nearby large tree and then landed in the pond.

“Bummer, man,” one guy astutely observed.

But Husband-Head thought it was a hoot.

“It’s my ‘Crash and Splash!'” he said, naming his new toy. “This is so cool!”

“That’s great, honey!” I agreed enthusiastically. “Do you want to wear my new bathrobe while you fly it?”

When Monday morning came around and everyone was gone, I sneaked a peek into the playhouse where he kept his new toy.

“OK, you little sucker,” I said with a smirk. “We’re going for a ride.”

When I finally figured out how to turn the remote on, I was only able to get the little helicopter to go around in circles.

But I’ll bet it’d be more fun if we rounded up some of the Romper Room gang. …

Heidi Rice and Husband-Head will be at the Glenwood Springs Downtown Market on Tuesday evening from 5-8 p.m. to do a book signing of their book, “Skully Says Shut It!” – a collection of Fried Rice humor columns. Heidi Rice is a staff reporter at the Glenwood Springs Post Independent. Her column runs every Friday. Visit her web site at

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