Bloody, stupid toys

I HAVE spent the last two days putting together toys that look so promising on the box, but are more confusing to construct than a desk from IKEA.

Hammers, screws, wood-blocks and screwdrivers are littering my front yard as I have tried in vain to put together a swing set, a bike and a ride-on-bubby-thingo.

Unfortunately, although some husbands are the put-together-and-make-it- work kind, mine is not, preferring to leave the engineering of plastic, metal and stickers to me. After all, as I like to tell him, I was the top student in Manual Arts in high-school (hmmm that has come back to bite me).

If the instructions were not bad enough, being totally illegible most times and in some strange combination of Chinese and English, the little bag with all the funny fittings usually contains at least three items that are not needed and a few bolts that are a totally different shape to those pictured.

So I am trying to do this with a nearly-three-year-old climbing my back and offering to 'help fix it' with his little toy tool set (bless!). I wonder why I choose to do this outdoors in the sun, especially when losing a bolt in the long grass sends us all into mass searches of the lawn to retireve the said bit so that my younger one doesn't swallow it and the entire swing set doesnt fall to pieces once in use.

As for the joy of giving - the joy is the person who gave the toy, got the credit and then went home leaving me to put the bloody, stupid thing together. Grrrr - all I get is 'hurry up mummy', 'hit it harder mummy' and 'mummy hurt her finger'.

At least next time I get something from IKEA, it will seem like a walk in a Swedish park.