A Girl After My Own Destructive Heart

One more Baby story to close out her birthday week, if I may.

The Baby has this habit of spotting a random toy just as we’re about to leave for day care in the morning, then grabbing it and insisting on taking it with her. If it’s something small, like a Yo Gabba Gabba action figure or a spider ring, I say okay. If it’s something big or ridiculous, like a book or a chair, I say no. If I say no, she immediately throws a fit, and I have to figure out how to distract her so I can get her out the door.

This morning, she really wanted to take a plastic pumpkin (the kind used for trick-or-treating). I said no, and she went ballistic. I carried her out onto the porch and closed the door, but she flung herself against it. It carried her down the stoop and walked down the street with her, but she was still upset.

If I get this far and she’s still crying, I try to find something nearby to excite and distract he, like, “Oooh, look at that squirrel running around in the tree!”. But this morning, none of the usual sights are working. s

brokenTV.jpgThen, at the end of our block, I spotted an old TV someone had thrown out on the curb. It lay screen-down, and some vandals had obviously gotten to it, because there was glass all over the sidewalk and the side panels were kicked in.

“Oooh, look at the broken TV!” I said, and made a smashing noise.

Immediately, The Baby stopped crying and started laughing. “Broken TV, oh no!” she squealed, and imitated my smash sound. Her anger about The Pumpkin Incident was completely forgotten.

We turned up another street, walked another 10 feet or so, and The Baby said, “Daddy, you remember the broken TV?”

“Yeah, it was funny!”

“It was FUNNY!” she said again, made the smashing sound, and laughed hysterically.

Perhaps I should be a tad worried about this, especially considering that time Predator lulled her to sleep. But then again, maybe I should have expected this, because I think breaking stuff is funny. I thought that when I was a kid, and I think that now. I have no idea why. It just touches a dumb, primal Laugh Button within me. When Dave Letterman used to throw junk off the top of a five-story building or crush them with a 80-ton hydraulic press, I was in heaven.

So The Baby has the I Think Breakin’ Stuff Is Funny Gene. In celebration of her birthday, this weekend we’re taking her to the demolition derby.