Please Leave My Stuff Alone! Get Your Grubby Little Hands Off That!

“How many times do I have to tell you. Don’t touch my stuff!”

Guess what I’m referring to? Yes, you got it, children playing with your STUFF! Or playing with stuff that could hurt them or potentially hurt someone else. Things like hot water, plastic bags, pens and pencils, any sharp object, food, wet food, greasy food, dried food, any food, wrappers, heavy things, things small enough for them to swallow, things too big for them to swallow but they try to anyway, string, your dentures, your underwear, your lipstick, magic markers, crayons, paint, fire, forks, that box, that branch, that toy, that salami, that propane gas tank. PLEASE don’t let me go on because I could form a list so long that it would rival the list of things on a greedy child’s wishlist to Santa Claus. In a nutshell, kids like playing with things that you don’t want them to be playing with. It starts as soon as they come out of the womb and sometimes continues through college.

My thought is, that in order to stop this type of behavior you’d have to have nothing but yourselves in your home. No furniture, because little Tommy will chew on the upholstery. No food because little Amy will get into the fridge and smear the food on the wall or smash it on the floor. No clothing because little Angel will get his little Angel feet tripped up in your scarf and possibly fall on his sweet little Angel face. No-thing would have to exist in the house except naked people. And even if it was just you naked, with the naked child with no clothes on to chew or get tangle up in, even then the child could easily start playing with your hair or your nipples or your ears in a way that could hurt you. And that wouldn’t be fun either.

Whether you have children or not, we’ve all witnessed the scenario of the contents of a house upside down and inside out with stuff tossed everywhere – the aftermath of kids needing to get into and play with stuff. I personally would go insane if I had to live in an environment like that, all disrupted, chaotic and disheveled. I commend parents who are able to tolerate this because I certainly could not.

Hence, SWaNK.


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