Below is a photo of a random selection of my son's Transformers, most of which are neither in robot nor vehicle transformation. Some are headless; some are armless; others are mere torsos. The other photo is an upclose of two Transformers, Mudflap and some other poor chap, in what I call "semiform," as the top photo shows, neither robot nor vehicle. When I was setting up the large group photo, my son said, "Dad, wait! You forgot to flip up Optimus' head." Optimus is the little guy just below the green Transformer in the group photo. I would've never caught it, but he found it like a needle in a haystack, and he picked one thing to fix, as if the other Transformers were just fine.
The plight of parents to transform Autobots and Decepticons for their kids.
Optimus Prime at Coffee Cat
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Thursday, January 19, 2012
The Beginning
My four year old son first experienced Transformer toys, etc., through his cousin (same age) about two years ago. Slowly but surely he developed a fascination with them. About a year ago, my mother came to visit and brought a bag full of lightly used Transformers; now all he does is eat, sleep, and breath Transformers. I can't even ask him a question, like "What did you do at school today?", without him answering with some sort of reference to Transformers. Now that he's older, the playing field has changed, and so have our lives.
When it came to the actual transforming of the toys, at first my son was fairly hands off, OK with just playing with them and letting them, when they came apart, remain in pieces. Then Christmas came in 2011, and everything changed. My wife and I are constantly berated with requests to transform his Transformers, and once we got into it, we realized we were in for it. Then came our epiphany: these toys are not age appropriate, as very few people of any age are capable of easily transforming even the least complicated of the toys; they are a cruel joke played on us vulnerable parents to torture us and drag us into an abyss of frustration because of our apparent ineptitude at figuring out a child's toy. Each Transformer comes with a color-coded diagram to educate us morons on how to "quickly" turn Optimus Prime into a semi truck and then back into his robot self. The diagrams are disorienting at best and are an insight into the cruel, maniacal minds of their creators. In a way, the diagrams are nearly as complicated as the Transformers they are meant to help.
While in the throws of transforming any number of Transformers, we inevitably hear, "Mommy/Daddy, when are you going to be done?" Our response is always, "Honey, it's only been 15 seconds, and I haven't even gotten past its head." After 45 minutes of mind liquifying, hand crippling labor, we reach complete transformation, but no, it's not over. My son, within, oh lets say 3 minutes, asks, "Mommy/Daddy, will you transform him back into Optimus?" We begin to shake, not believing what we're hearing, but quickly gather ourselves and say, "Mommy/Daddy needs a break; we'll do it after bath time." Whining, in varying degrees of severity, ensues, but we inevitably mollify him, getting him to waylay his want for Optimus until after bath.
Now begins the sharing part....
When it came to the actual transforming of the toys, at first my son was fairly hands off, OK with just playing with them and letting them, when they came apart, remain in pieces. Then Christmas came in 2011, and everything changed. My wife and I are constantly berated with requests to transform his Transformers, and once we got into it, we realized we were in for it. Then came our epiphany: these toys are not age appropriate, as very few people of any age are capable of easily transforming even the least complicated of the toys; they are a cruel joke played on us vulnerable parents to torture us and drag us into an abyss of frustration because of our apparent ineptitude at figuring out a child's toy. Each Transformer comes with a color-coded diagram to educate us morons on how to "quickly" turn Optimus Prime into a semi truck and then back into his robot self. The diagrams are disorienting at best and are an insight into the cruel, maniacal minds of their creators. In a way, the diagrams are nearly as complicated as the Transformers they are meant to help.
While in the throws of transforming any number of Transformers, we inevitably hear, "Mommy/Daddy, when are you going to be done?" Our response is always, "Honey, it's only been 15 seconds, and I haven't even gotten past its head." After 45 minutes of mind liquifying, hand crippling labor, we reach complete transformation, but no, it's not over. My son, within, oh lets say 3 minutes, asks, "Mommy/Daddy, will you transform him back into Optimus?" We begin to shake, not believing what we're hearing, but quickly gather ourselves and say, "Mommy/Daddy needs a break; we'll do it after bath time." Whining, in varying degrees of severity, ensues, but we inevitably mollify him, getting him to waylay his want for Optimus until after bath.
Now begins the sharing part....
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