Trinketville

It was a major, dare I say 'epic' haul last night, as we returned home from dinner out with Grandma and Grandpa.

Lukas, Annabelle, Mrs. LIAYF and I met my folks at a local 50's themed diner for burgers, fish and chips, milkshakes, and classic rock and roll. There's a jukebox in this diner where, for two bits, you can choose from any number of classics.

Somehow by randomly punching at the jukebox buttons Annabelle chose the song Teenager in Love, prompting a near hyperventilating howl of laughter from Lukas. He's 8.

Anyway, all those things were cool for sure but were NOT the highlight of the evening for the kids.  There was something much cooler in this establishment to occupy their time.

If you are thinking to yourself "I bet there was also one of those vending dispensers of cheap trinkety toys in little bubble shaped plastic containers there as well"  Ding, ding, ding and DING! crown yourself king of the Internet for the next 30 seconds, because you're good at this game.

On this particular evening our happy kids lucked into the perfect storm, or perhaps more appropriately, the Bermuda Triangle of tiny plastic treasure pieces, when the combination of Grandpa, vending machine, and change dispenser formed a soul and dollar bill sucking triangle just outside of the two tables we had pulled together to give the other patrons a barrier between themselves and our pinballing children.

And our kids deftly took full advantage of their good fortune (it's rare they get to deposit more than one quarter into such machines) by raking in such amazing treasure pieces as plastic bracelets, plastic rings, plastic heart shaped key chains, rubber aliens, plastic watches, compasses, and spinning tops.  All in multitudes.

Personally, I was a bit sad to see that not one of those tiny plastic bubbles had a sad looking tiny plastic boy in it. Not a single one.

Perhaps Lukas was looking for one for me though, because he and his sister just kept feeding the machines.  First the change dispenser, then the trinket barfing hunk of metal and glass. Over and over.  This machine even seemed to be looking up towards the grownups and laughing every time it coughed up another plastic bubble.

On a side note, If that's not already the theme of a horror movie, it should be.

When it finally did stop, Mrs. LIAYF's body was adorned with much of this haul. She looked like a much prettier,  plastic adorned version of Mr. T - circa 1982 and Rocky III.   Apparently she was acting as the safe deposit box while our little pirates were out looting.

I would have loved to have found a way to leave all those trinkets right there, at the diner. Perhaps for another less fortunate and Grandparent-less child to happen upon.  But alas, it was not to be.

The haul was gathered. It was brought home.  It will find it's way into the nooks and crannies of our home.  It will take it's rightful place there amongst all the other trinkety treasure that my kids have gathered over the years.

One day, a long time from now, no doubt there will be a headline that reads something to the effect:  'Scientists break open Seattle home  - Are appalled at the number of tiny plastic pieces they find.

Yes, welcome home endless tiny plastic pieces of junk.  You have now arrived at Trinketville.

Enjoy your stay.