Mr. Potato Head Goes Intergalactic

For the past few days my two-year-old has only played with one type of toy. He thinks Mr. Potato Heads are very cool. He can't get enough of them. My son has spent hours re-arranging their faces, making up games, and singing to the potatoes.

(Although, he refuses to call them anything but tomato heads.)

My little guy is especially enthralled with Darth Tater. (He also has an R2 Potatoo.) I must say, few things are more entertaining than a two-year-old singing The Imperial Death March to Mr. Potato Head.

Bum, bum, bum ... ba-ba bum ... ba-ba bum ...

Yesterday I stole a few moments to catch up on my email. My young son brought his Mr. Potato Head over. He set the toy on the counter beside me and sweetly asked:

"Mommy, can you put on Darth Tater's bum?" (The flap had fallen off of Mr. Potato Head's backside.)

I then uttered one of those weird and wonderful Mommy-responses:

"Sure honey, I can fix Darth Tater's bum for you. Just let me send this email."

... With home-grown entertainment like that, who needs a TV?