My husband, the dear, sweet, wonderful man that he is (I know you're reading, so I have to fluff you up before I bring you down, Mister), still being on the high of watching Mateo's joy over his new big boy cars, decided to buy him this and this on Sunday:
Much to my horror, that is.
As soon as I saw it, I said very quietly so Mateo wouldn't see my horror and immediate fear of eyeballs being blinded by sharp, metal airplane wings, "It's got sharp corners. He shouldn't have that...."
My husband turned to me with that look of "but he's soooo happy, it'll be fine, just fine, you silly woman," but instead just said, "It'll be fiiiinnnnneeeee."
I gave him a death glare.
I said again that he really shouldn't have it. He still needs rounded corners, preferably of the plastic kind. He's not even two yet. And he still falls a lot. And puts stuff in his mouth. And has beaten me up good with just his body, so imagine what damage he can do with that death plane o' metal.
Plus, I really didn't want to spend my Sunday making sure Mateo wasn't doing some damage to himself, the cats, or our furniture with that thing.
"Look what he's doing," I said nonchalantly to my husband.
Mateo was sticking the wings in his mouth. Wait. Let me change that. Jamming the wings into his mouth. The sharp, metal wings.
"Mateo! No! Don't put that in your mouth!" my husband admonished.
And, as we all know, that just turned into, "Oh, Mateo! What a good boy putting that metal airplane wing into your mouth - you are soooo good. Do it more! More!" in Mateo's head.
I sent more death glares to my husband.
My husband finally realized that the airplane and helicopter probably weren't the best purchases he could have made for Mateo and said he'd take the plane away when Mateo napped.
The helicopter never made it out of the packaging, by the way.
I decided to feed Mateo, so I convinced him to put the plane on the table so he could see it as he ate. At one point, I told my husband to sneak over and make the airplane disappear. He wandered over, blocked Mateo's view, took the plane, and left the room.
Mateo had no clue.
Until he was done eating.
"Airplane? Airplane?" he said over and over while looking at the spot on the table where the airplane used to be.
I tried to give him one of his new cars to calm him down, but he wasn't having any of it and started a very immediate flip out.
"Ask Daddy for your airplane," I said to him. "He knows where it is."
We let him have it, which is easier than fighting him all afternoon about his airplane. Mateo took the plane and one of his cars and hid them - from us. Yes, that kid is smart. He put them behind a box in the living room. He was having problems with the box, so I went over to help him, which you'd think would freak him out, but since, like I mentioned before, he's not even two yet, it never crossed his mind that I would see the plane and the car.
After the box was nicely situated to hide the plane from our view, Mateo began to play with his other toys and act like there was never a plane to begin with.
But I'm better.
I told him to go give his Daddy something, and while he was off doing that, I took the airplane, put it under my shirt, walked right by him and put it in our bathroom cabinet.
There was only one time Mateo got panicky about his missing airplane, but as far as I saw, he didn't even look behind the box to realize the plane was missing. I think he just remembered it and just forgot that he was being sneaky and was hiding it from us.
And never fear! He's getting this lovely rounded cornered, plastic beauty from his Aunt and family for Christmas:
And while it might not be as exciting as the little metal plane his daddy bought him, it's definitely not going to do any damage to anyone's eyes or mouth. The most he could do is chuck it at us, and I really don't put that past him as he's been known to chuck toys at us and the cats on occasion.