So I’m walking the toy aisle of Walmart as my children desperately hunt down the mark that fits their margin of this weeks chore earnings. My daughter undoubtedly goes straight for the blind-bags Shopkins or Num Noms which I encourage, as a mom from the 80s who lives vicariously through her 21 st century daughter’s past-times. My son on the other hand always struggles with this decision. I suppose the battle lies in the inability to find something of interest in the $10 range, when all of your gift lists are composed of items such as google glasses, an Apple Watch, or Virtual Reality PS4 games it makes it hard to narrow it down. And then we found it, the holy grail of nine year old chore money splurges, PooDough, because even though its a crappy buy, every nine year old still likes being a turd.
The kit comes with three tubs of poo colored poodough, a deep chocolate brown, a healthy light-that’s normal looking poop-brown, and a small tub of yellow, you know for proving that your fake poop has fake corn in it. The displayed images on the packaging encourage you to mix the poodough until you reach your desired poop. No, I didn’t ever think I would have a desirable poop preference but apparently I do, and it differs from my sons.
The mold has one big turd of a main compartment, with a small section for molding a few kernels of corn. When you mold your first poodough, its somewhat of a spiritual awakening. I mean we’ve all seen that hardened fake poop in the novelty section of toy stores before, but this dung will make you tear at the utter shock and amazement of how life-like this corny excretion actually is.
Immediately my son began asking if non-toxic means you can take a bite. Okay, what the deuce, can you take a bite of the poodough because it’s nontoxic? My son quickly walked me through his masterfully thought out scenario in which he pre-molds his poodough, leaves it in the bathroom, pretends he’s gotta pass a big one, wait for my husband to walk in and ask what’s taking so long, then wrap it up in toilet paper and take a big fat bite. The fact that my son is capable of strategically planning out an elaborate joke to this extent at the ripe age of nine, makes mama proud. Well, yes the whole eating poodough does gross me out, but I’m still proud.
My only disappointment with this purchase, was that I hadn’t found it on my own, leaving me with one less brilliant gift to be stuffed in my son’s Christmas stalking. So I hope you parents of young boys who are looking for fun ways to entertain your children, or perhaps you just think that your kid really does deserve crap for Christmas. Well, give poodough a chance, as far as gag-gifts go I promise it won’t be your number two choice.
*All poo puns were intended regardless as to how crappy you thought they were.