Ian has a treehouse. It is known around here as The Treehouse. It is a jungle thing where you drop the balls in the top and they roll through one way or the other and then spin around on the bottom. It plays really annoying music. Over and over again. Ian's favorite pastime is to lay on his tummy and watch the bottom discs spin round and round.
The last few days it has been sounding, well, belaboured is the best way to describe it. So I got some batteries and switched them out. Upon standing the item back up, I noticed a foul odor emanating from it. Who knows how many times Ian has puked upon The Treehouse, whereupon it ran into the toy and stank up the works. Looked to me like I just needed to unscrew the discs and wipe out underneath. As soon as I did that, rubber bands began flying about the room. But I didn't notice because of the cesspool I found inside. I thought it would need a wipe, but what I actually saw was so fetid I should have taken a picture and emailed it to Rotten.com. But being the brave and noble mommy that I am, I painstakingly polished all the putrid pollution from my perfect Ian's precious plaything. The result is that it smells, well, if not exactly fresh, at least only mildly malodorous.
Only then did I notice the rubber bands.
The following hour involved 13 screws, 3 rubber bands, 2 screwdrivers, a knife, 2 calls to Fisher Price (who were no help at all), and uncounted swearwords. But let me assure you it is back working to full capacity, all screws screwed, all bolts bolted, all nuts nutted, all rubber bands...um... you get the picture. And fresh batteries to top it off. But let me tell you, if he pukes in it again, he's just gonna have to frisk in his feculence, because I am not going through that again!