Then we had a town-wide garage sale event (I bought an enormous stuffed bear for the kids to read with for, like, $1) and I figured this was it: it was time to chop up those toys in to FRANKENTOYS!
The set-up for this program was quite simple: the toys, some good scissors, some needles and thread, whatever embellishments I had laying around, some extra stuffing just in case, and hot glue. The program was for 10 and ups, so I was comfortable that they could use the glue gun on their own.
There was only one rule: if you cut something, you had to have a plan for it. No just ripping in to things willy-nilly.
At first, it seemed like this rule wasn't going to be necessary. In fact, the entire program teetered on the brink of disaster when the girls started picking up stuffed animals, dubbing them CUTE!! and mourning any cutting that might have to be done. It didn't help that the newspaper reporter who had come (entirely of her own volition - I really am lucky! And that wasn't sarcastic - I consider myself very fortunate to have proactive photo takers!) kept saying "are you really going to cut that one?"
But then. Oh.... glorious then.
Someone cut one. And then someone else cut another one. And then another one. And suddenly, the whole thing snowballed into one big cutting, gluing, un-stuffing frenzy. I found myself repeating the rule a few times to prevent mayhem.
Some of the results:
|Headless by choice, thank you very much.|
|That tree? Is glued to his butt. Also, he's on wheels.|
|That fish head is a measuring tape that comes out when you yank it.|
Glorious does not begin to describe it.
|The head-swap twins.|
|Cerberus. Three headed with yeti arms and a cape.|
Especially when this yeti lost his arms to Cerberus.
|Doesn't he look just completely bewildered and depressed about his missing arms?|
So I did:
|Less flummoxed, more "dear god, why!!"|
And the thought of what might happen to their toys at home after this program... Yeah, it keeps me up nights.