Do you know what “fun” thing I don’t understand?
Even as a kid myself, stickers seemed to come with a severely limited fun-potential. There isn’t a lot to do with them. There are really only 2 options that I can think of:
1.) A sticker book. Which may seem like a great idea to keep all those stickers contained, but also boring.
2.) Tag your surroundings. Which, let’s face it, is much more enjoyable as far as stickers go. Still not a great option if you’re a parent, though. Because if your child has ever had stickers, you know you’ll be peeling those off surfaces for days, if not weeks, to come.
Buzz was given a gift box of stickers for his birthday. Not just a single sheet or even a pack, a gift box. In total, there are 100 Superhero stickers to do… something… with. Sure, all that stickiness appears enticing at first. But it’s like a hot fudge sundae; sweet and delicious, but full of empty calories that have nowhere productive to go.
He has more stickers than should ever be allowed. I can’t keep up. I’m finding pieces of Spiderman and Wolverine on the carpet, Iron Man riding shotgun on the bottom of my foot, a blue Beast tangled in my hair, and Blade adhered to my clothes. Most of all, however, they have begun to set up a perimeter of super crime fighters on my walls. All over my walls. Where that swath of pristine space is just too tempting.
Stickers. I don’t get it. But it seems I’m literally stuck with them.