Karli and I used to go to the movies. A lot. Over the first 12 or so years of our relationship, there were several periods of time where there wasn’t anything worth seeing at the theater that we hadn’t already seen. So we’d just go see it again. We didn’t really ring up big bar tabs or splurge on other stuff, so it was our recreation.
Since June of last year, I’ve seen exactly two movies in the theatre. Two. Karli’s gotten to go to a few more with her sister, but I’ve just got the two—one of which probably could’ve waited till Redbox. Why the sudden drop-off? You know why:
That’s where my excitement over the other box from Hasbro I mentioned before comes into play. Those beautiful bastards sent me some Iron Man 3 toys. I mean Squatch—they sent Squatch some Iron Man 3 toys.
Let’s face it—the chance that I’ll get to go see Iron Man 3 in the theatre is about as likely as me catching a fart and painting it blue. With this box of wonderful, I could at least pretend like I’d seen it. And possibly act out a few scenes. With Squatch, of course. Of course.
They gave me Iron Man’s mask, which I was probably most excited about. When you think of Iron Man, you think of the mask. That’s the key to the whole thing. No mask, no Iron Man, right? Only, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I have a big head. Save your jokes and snide comments, please—I can handle that myself. So the mask, made for kids, doesn’t fit my large dome. Squatch gave it a go, though.
They also sent me—er, Squatch—an Iron Man glove that fires little Nerf discs across the room. I’d have liked it to have jet propulsion and fire energy bursts like the ones from the movie, but I’ll settle for Nerf discs. They might be little foam things, but those suckers come whipping out of that glove fast. From point-blank, they hurt just a little bit. You can ask my cat—I got him right in the nose with one of those things on accident. DISCLAIMER: Don’t point anything that fires projectiles at anything’s face—even your rat bastard cat.
Squatch’s favorite toy in the box was the Iron Patriot figure with a button on the chest that makes it say stuff. He just kept pressing it to hear it say stuff and make laser noises. It’s got a little cannon that swings up and fires a plastic rocket, but Squatch really couldn’t care less about that feature at this point. He just wants it to talk to him. And he talks back, too.
I’m going to sound like an old man for a second here, so bear with me, but when did every toy start taking batteries? Not all the Iron Man 3 toys that Hasbro offers require batteries, I just happened to get three of them that did. And I’m not just talking about these toys, either. It seems like about 70% of the toys Squatch has anymore need batteries because they light up and make noise and whirl around doing something special. Batteries get expensive, yo. Maybe this is less me being an old man about it and more just me being jealous because not as many of my toys growing up did cool electronic things. No fair.
Squatch is a little on the young side to play with those toys right now*, so they’ll be waiting for him when he stops trying to put every damn thing in his mouth. Getting these things makes me look forward to the day I’ll actually be able to play with these kinds of toys with him. It’s been too long since I’ve had a good ol’-fashioned action figure adventure. Hopefully I haven’t forgotten how it’s done.
*But I’m not.
Unlike the Angry Birds Star Wars stuff, I won’t be giving any of this away. It’s ALL FOR ME! MINE MINE MINE MINE!
I mean Squatch. It’s all for Squatch.
Speaking of Angry Birds Star Wars and giveaways, congrats to Aquatic Bat, who won the Millenium Falcon Bounce Game and the ire of the other entrants! Send me an email at squatchdad(at)gmail.com with your info and I’ll mail that off to you in a lickety-split-ish manner. Hope you enjoy it!
DISCLAIMER: As mentioned before, Hasbro sent me all these toys, but had no influence over what I said—that’s all me. Though, at this point, they probably wish they did.