You've all seen this seemingly safe child's toy, right? In our part of the world, we call them "poppers" or "pop-its." You press it down on a table or floor and after a few seconds, it pops into the air. Gleeful, I tell ya.
Since my son is thirteen and is past the danger of putting it into his mouth and swallowing it, I though it was safe to let him play with this toy. After all, others like it are in my Sunday School treasure box, from which children can pick when they get up and give a talk in front of a crowd. Boy, was I wrong. Please don't call Child Protective Services.
My son, walked past me this afternoon, and as he did, I noticed some strange markings on his face--strange markings that would cause a mother of a teen extreme alarm if they were elsewhere on the body, say on a neck or somewhere.
"What happened to your face?" He, not knowing there was anything wrong, went to the bathroom mirror. He came out with a sheepish grin and said, "Oh, I guess that happened when I stuck the popper to my face."
He stuck the popper to his face. Where was the warning label? Why wasn't I advised that adhering a popper to the face may cause a child to look as if an octopus had attacked? How many teens have been unjustly accused when they have come home at night with such bruises? "I promise, Dad, we were just playing with poppers!" How many budding young romances have been squelched by disbelieving parents?
I will know better now. Especially in the case of my son, who charged me $1.50 to put his picture on the blog and tell his story. The little mercenary.