Is it possible for a fictional train to actually become the bane of your life? For the past few weeks Thomas the Tank Engine has consumed our household, not literally, nothing that exciting ever happens to Thomas. Books, toys, DVD’s, bags, drinks bottles, pyjamas, you name it Max now has it, he is a walking advertisement for Reverand W Awdry’s locomotive money spinning creation.
We recently took Max to ride a steam train. He was fairly ambivalent towards trains at the time, more of a digger man. We returned home with Max’s engine full of steam. Whilst he delighted in the “choo choo’s” and the “peep peeps” I had a worrying premonition that the obsession developing before my eyes may see him join the ranks of solo adult train lovers that were riding along with us and looked as though they might benefit from the love of a good woman or man.
If there were to be a soundtrack to my life right now it would be the opening and closing credits of Thomas and his chuffing friends. I know it word for word in all its long and tedious glory. I hate that I can identify enough trains to make me a bona fide train spotter. I hate that I have been sucked into talking to them like they are real living beings, “Max do you think Gordon needs to have a little rest now, come on Gordon time for bed!”
All of the lovely books in Max’s vast library have been usurped by that irritating little train! I used to look forward to story time, but as I find myself putting on my Fat Controller voice and bellowing orders at fictional steam trains, I have an overwhelming urge to set fire to the damned book. I have tried hiding them in amongst his ‘educational toys’ but they seem to have an extraordinary boomerang like quality of reappearing.
And is it just me or are the morals a little sinister? The fat controller spends his entire day dishing out orders to his steamy subordinates, dangling the carrot that if they work hard enough they too can be very useful. It sounds a little too much like reality for it to be children’s entertainment.
Adding fuel to the fire (I’m even dropping unintentional train puns now) I recently turned an unwanted coffee table into a magical wonderland of train landscape (how my life has changed). I now spend my days on my hands and knees pushing trains with names and voices around an ugly coffee table that inhabits our living room. A word of warning – if anyone does attempt something similar don’t use polenta grain for the beach, spilt water + polenta = quick sand.
Until yesterday I was consumed with Thomas hatred and then I caught myself doing something that made me realise it was resentment rather than rage. I found myself sitting on my bed watching Peppa Pig, alone. You see prior to Thomas there was Peppa and I truly dig that pig! I missed her wholesome piggy ways and her confident piggy swagger. I missed her little snort and longed for George’s dinosaur roar. I even missed Daddy Pig’s constant boasting and terrible Dad jokes. So it’s not that I necessarily hate you Thomas (I’m actually looking at him as I type this) it’s that I struggle without Peppa.
What’s hot in your house right now? Which ones bring out a little of the crazy in you? And please tell me I’m not the only one who digs that pig.
Flogging my blog with the wonderful Grace at With Some Grace (she also despises talking trains)