My aunt visited last week while Mom was here and brought Joseph a belated birthday present. Let's just say that I'm changing her name from Great Aunt to Not So Great Aunt. Why would I make such a harsh statement about a beloved family member? Two words.
Moon Sand
From a distance, it's a brilliant gift. Unlike it's Play-Do counterpart, it doesn't dry out. You can mold it, smash it, even bake it. It feels fun and squishy in your hands, like slightly dampened sand.
Close up, it's the gift to give to the child of your Mommy Archenemy. You know...the woman who sneers as your sone eats Nutri Grain bars and only Nutri Grain bars for lunch or rolls her eyes when your little boy runs crying because her child bit him.
Tiny grains spread across the house at an alarming rate as your sweetheart runs around showing you his latest creations. Like the sand it is, it permeates your carpet, your tile floors, your bathtubs, your sinks, your furniture. In less than an hour, four cups of multi-colored sand is reduced to a half cup of camo green. There's no way to separate the colors once they've been molded together. There's no way to prevent the sand from escaping it's container.
Even worse, there's no way to keep your child from playing with it. It is squishy and fun and mailable. It is fun. No matter how high up you put it, your monkey will find it. No matter how much you try to distract him from the Lure of the Sand, he will gravitate towards it like a magnet to north.
Do not buy this for your child. Buy it for someone else's child and then let your kid go to their house.
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