Whenever I need a little excitement in my life or the kids are bored, we play a fun game called sofa treasure.
I wish I was kidding.
It goes like this: Every few weeks, I’ll interrupt the kids’ usual indoor activity: screaming and running around the house like the feral kid in "The Road Warrior" (minus the deadly boomerang) and shout "Let’s play sofa treasure!" (If you prefer couch, go for it)
They gather ‘round and I reach my hand down between the sofa cushions until I feel something. If it bites, we play "Can you identify the brown recluse spider, quickly?"
The kids get all excited and we tabulate what’s junk or treasure. More treasure than junk and everybody gets to watch "Dog the Bounty Hunter" and eat Fluff straight from the container.
Here we go:
Long lost Barbie surfboard. Treasure!
Numerous hair ties. Junk!
Sticky raisins. Junk!
Coins, various demoninations. Treasure!
Several of those weird big-eyed, bobble head animals from Pet Shop. Treasure!
Really tiny Polly Pocket shoes. Treasure!
Final score: Treasure 4, Junk 2
Sorry kids, when I said "everybody" gets to watch "Dog" and eat Fluff, I meant me. Now get to bed.

Kid You Not is back from a week’s vacation, if you define vacation as lugging sleeping preschoolers around, listening to the first grader’s newly invented gibberish/language over and over again and helping Mrs. Kid You Not open her amazing clothing design business in downtown Fairfield.
My wife is an incredibly talented made-to-measure clothing designer (think the contestants on "Project Runway" without the personality disorders, neck tattoos and goofy hats) who worked from a home office for years. She built a long list of loyal clients, but it was time to being things to a new level.
She designs for women and men, but it’s her fantastic kids’ clothes that I like best.
If you’re in the neighborhood, stop by Jennifer Butler at 1326 Post Rd., Fairfield, CT. Visit www.jenniferbutler.com for an idea of how she rolls.
Now, as an added attraction, my daughter will translate this entire post into her new language. Just kidding.

The big election news of the week had nothing to do with the beat down Democrats handed to the GOP. The important election was Thursday’s naming of the Easy-Bake Oven and the Lionel train to the National Toy Hall of Fame.
As I posted earlier, I would have chosen Hot Wheels and the skateboard, but maybe those toys will make the cut next year. An unscientific survey of the women sitting near me showed that every girl born since 1964 has owned an Easy Bake. Heck, Betty Freidan and Camille Paglia probably had an Easy-Bake.
As far as Lionels go, you either played with one a few times or became totally obsessed. There are plenty of 50-year-old men out there with Lionels set up in their basements.
You know, if John DeStefano Jr. had been running against an Easy-Bake for governor, I’m pretty sure the Easy-Bake would be sitting behind a big desk in Hartford right now.

This weekend is the annual induction ceremony for the National Toy Hall of Fame.
The nominees are: Atari, Big Wheel, Easy-Bake Oven, Lite-Brite, Fisher Price Little People, Hot Wheels, Lionel trains, Operation, Pez, the rubber duck, the skateboard and Twister.
All worthy choices, except for the rubber duck. That’s just stupid.
Growing up, I didn’t have a lot of brand-name toys, so I’m not emotionally attached to much on this list: Big Wheel, Atari (born too early); Easy-Bake, Little People (not gay, afraid of that little light bulb that heated up); Twister (parents told me it leads to pregnancy); Pez (not really a toy); Operation (my friend John had it, afraid of getting buzzed. From the game).
But you can be damn sure I had Hot Wheels, a skateboard and a Lionel train. Two toys from this list get inducted and I would choose Hot Wheels and the skateboard. In the 70’s, the first wave skateboard craze hit my town hard. My parents bought me a cheapie from a store called Child World, and I rode that thing until the wheels literally fell off. All my Hot Wheels are long gone, but I can still feel them in my hand and remember the time I doused a Rolls Royce in lighter fluid and torched it. Was that wrong?
The glaring omission from the list is the Whiffle Ball, made right here in Shelton. Like Jim Rice, the Whiffle Ball has been on the list, but never makes that cut. This year, it didn’t even get nominated.
Here’s hoping the nomination panel takes a line drive right on the arm. Boy, did that sting.

This is a tough time for you, I know. I want you to know I don’t care.
Don’t take this the wrong way. I really, really don’t care.
Your brutal assaults on the institutions of marriage, motherhood, music and acting are unforgivable. What has prompted such strong feelings? Perhaps it was the driving with the baby on your lap. Or having the baby facing the wrong way in the car seat. Or dropping the baby on his head. Or, most disturbing, putting a baseball cap sideways on the baby’s head.
I know you will be tempted to exploit your future relationships for maximum exposure. Let me urge you to instead focus on raising your children. Put them first, so they don’t end up, well, like you.
Think about it, OK?

This is a tough time for you, I know. I want you to know I can help.
Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m a happily married man with two wonderful kids. You’re a mom with great kids, too, so I think we have a connection. Do you feel it?
I know you live in California and have many nice friends, but perhaps getting away from it all will help.
Stay with my family for while and immerse yourself in my lifestyle.
Ride with me in my Subaru on Interstate 95 to work. I have a desk and a computer. You are welcome to access the Internet for a while.
I often have a peanut butter sandwich for lunch to save a bit of money. I could share it with you. I have a blog. You could guest write a post, maybe something funny about wacky things kids say.
When we get home, you could help set the table and clean up tiny Polly Pocket accessories from the floor. Please join the conversation around the dinner table. You could ask the girls how school was, or ask my wife how hard it is to fit everything into one day.
At night, I like to watch hockey. Do you? Sometimes, my wife gets a DVD at the library. Have you seen "Flightplan"?
This weekend, you could help me clean up the leaves. Hopefully, they won’t be too wet.
Maybe all this is too much for you. I don’t want to pressure you. You could simply catch up on some reading. I have many back issues of "The New Yorker."
Think about it, OK?