Furby. Or Why Does Santa Hate Us?

I think Nerdguy just had a Furby-induced heart attack when he accidentally nudged it, while turning on the lamp.  Now he is arguing with it, and telling it to go to sleep.  It seems that Hasbro has made an even bigger mockery of us than the children have.

Santa brought a Furby for each of the girls.  Molly and Grace both asked for them, and Santa thought Maggie might want one too.  Often we don’t know what Maggie will want.  Until she makes several attempts to steal it from her sisters.  She has shown zero interest in it, and honestly I think that it would just frustrate her.  So we are taking advantage of the North Pole Retail Cooperative and returning it to a local store in exchange for coveted Lalaloopsies.  She adores those terrifying dolls with the button eyes, and has been asking all day to “Go shopping and in the car to get Lalaoopsies.”  Even stood in the hall with a shopping bag, knocking on the door, saying “Polar bear…where arrrrrre you?” because she can’t find the polar bear that came with one of them.  Use sentences that big, and I’ll take you shopping kid!!

I never had one of the original Furbies.  I had never even heard of them until recently.  I think someone may be starting a telethon in my name.  I wasn’t quite expecting the attitude problem of these little balls of fur.  They start out speaking Furbish, and as you spend more time with them they learn more English and develop their personality.

Grace was mortified because hers was always mad at her, and showing her devil eyes and growling.  She couldn’t translate quickly enough and do what it was saying, so it turned on her.  So we pressed the reset button.  That may be the only redeeming feature of them…wouldn’t it be nice if all mean people had reset buttons?  It’s nice to her now, but it still has quite a lip on it.  I get enough eye rolling and mocking out in the general public…I sure don’t need it from a toy.

Molly’s has progressed to using more English, and developing its personalities.  Yes.  Plural.  It rotates between 3 different personalities, and you are never sure which one you are going to get.  We have enough of that from the 4 females in this house, and I am sure it is only going to get worse in a few years.  Maybe Furby is like one of those Potty Training Elmo dolls, but this is a Living with PMS Doll.  If it starts throwing things and randomly bursts into tears, then we can be sure.

Tomorrow, Grace’s teacher has told the class that anyone who has a Furby can bring it in.  I wasn’t sure if pregnancy brain had taken over to make herself do something so masochistic to herself, but Grace told me that her teacher doesn’t know what they are.  Someone should really warn the poor woman.  Or not, and hope she confiscates them all when she reaches the point where she just wants to bang their little furby heads together.

Because you can’t turn them off.  If you try to move it, or nudge it even a little bit, like Einstein did earlier, they wake up and start taunting you.  Sorry, but I’ve already been through that.  Three times.  And just for extra kicks, 2 of them were simultaneous.  And with colic.

Molly insisted that I swaddle hers so that it would sleep better.  At least it doesn’t bust out of the swaddle like Superman kicking his way out of the phone booth.  If that’s not how it really happens, don’t tell me.  I hate spoilers.

Whatever you do…do not move!! 

Do you have a Furby?  Or a pet alligator with a bad attitude?  I will trade for the alligator.


Comments

  1. says

    Ohmygoodness… Those things creeped me out at the store. No WAY would I let one in my house. We have a weird rule around here… No toys that move by themselves. Not even if it’s just their weird flappy eyeballs. We DO have a pile of Lalaloopsies, but as they just sit around looking cute, I have no problem with them. If they start demanding I do things for them, they’re out.

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