It's Broken

As most of you may know, my 3 year old daughter likes to break things. Just about whatever she can get her little monkey hands on, eventually she will snap in half like a vanquished foe. Then she throws it down and spits on it declaring her awesomeness to anyone who dares to challenge her.

So it was no big surprise that my little Mongo came running up to me today screaming "Daddy! Daddy!" In her little hand she held a wheel. It's a green wheel, plastic of course because toy manufacturers love to drive all dad's apeshit by making all their toys out of plastic. They obviously have never let a 3 year old destructor road test any of their toys.

Screw plastic, we require cobalt steel. It should be able to withstand a mac truck running over it, turning around, running over it again and then the driver getting out of the truck to hit it with a hammer. I would so buy that toy. I don't even care what kind of toy it would be, but I would buy it.

So little Mongo hands me the wheel and says "Daddy fix it." As soon as I see it, I know that I can't. The wheel belongs to her little shopping cart that she has had for the last 2 years. Now I must say, I am quite impressed that this thing has lasted this long. But it's one of her favorites and now it has snapped. My guess is that she was trying to see if she could punch holes in the wall with it.

I'll also admit that I hate to break my daughter's heart. All the tough talk that I might do, she plays me like a violin and I hate to disappoint her.

"I can't honey. It's broken for good." I say as I examine where it snapped off. It's a clean break, but it's an actual break. No glue could hold this, no screw would make it through the plastic without ripping it apart. It's officially broke.

"No Daddy, you fix it." she sounds so confident.

"I can't honey, it's broken."

"No Daddy, I help." she says and then disappears. I have no idea what is coming next as I hear her in the kitchen going through one of the drawers. My first thought is that she is going to get a knife and hold it to my throat until I fix this thing. I'm already making plans for my escape.

I know that I will break down and go by her a new one. I'm weak, I'll admit it. She'll learn her lesson of not to play to rough with her toys and then daddy will go buy her a new one. Because I'm a sap.

She comes back in with something in her hands.

"Here you go Daddy. I help!" she says, she is so proud of herself.

She hands me a roll of duct tape.

I swear to all that is holy I have never been so proud of my daughter as I was at that moment.

The wheel now works fine.