$%#@ing Rainbow Loom
Like every other kid on the planet, my daughter received a Rainbow Loom for Christmas. She also received a Fun Loom from her Meemaw. There are all kinds of looms out there, apparently. As far as I know, they all look somewhat similar:
It's basically a peg board. You take tiny little colored rubber bands and stretch and criss-cross them all over the loom. Then, in theory, you end up with a bracelet. If you're lucky, your kid will make you a bracelet that is too small for your wrist and cuts off your circulation like some unusually colorful tourniquet. She made one for my mom that would possibly fit a squirrel's wrist - if the squirrel in question was super svelte. As an added bonus, the colors in the bracelet are unlikely to match anything you've ever worn. I have a lime green one, for example.
I found an article about the man who invented the Rainbow Loom, in case you'd like to direct your ire at a specific individual. I feel like he needs to come to my house and pick up the bajillion tiny bands that litter the carpet. I find them in the laundry, in the bathroom, under the couch, etc. At this point I'm surprised we're not pooping them out. Well, the dogs might be for all I know - I don't really look too closely at what comes out of them.
As craft projects go, I can see why the loom is so attractive to kids. I mean, you can churn out a bracelet in just a few minutes. Then you can be cool like all of your friends! The tricky thing, though, is that there are a bunch of different patterns for these bracelets. There is a standard chain-type design that every kid can probably do. Then there is something call the Starburst design. Apparently this is the pinnacle of loom bracelets. My daughter attempted it last week. She sat down at the computer and found a YouTube video containing instructions for the making the bracelet. In the link I supplied above, please note that those instructions contain 24 steps. TWENTY-FOUR. If I ask my daughter to put her wet towel down the laundry chute and then put on her pajamas, she will complete one or the other of those tasks, but not both.
At first, I was pretty impressed. She sat at the computer desk for a while, pausing the video every few seconds so that she could carry out the instructions. She had bands stretched out all over the loom. But then, she got confused on one step and seriously lost her shit. She flew into an apoplectic rage and threw the loom. Bands flew everywhere. Instead of yelling at her, I scooped her up (because she was crying to beat the band) and told her that the Starburst design is considered to be an advanced configuration. I know this only because I'd seen a few people mention it on Facebook. There was no consoling her, though. I picked up the loom and put it back in the box. She accused me of pulling off some of the bands, and of course I had done no such thing. I took the loom away from her and made her go to bed. She wailed all the way down the hall, because her life was ruined and all.
When my daughter was two and a half, my mom bought her a plastic train set for Christmas. It was really cute. The colorful tracks snapped together and you could even configure them into a circle. The kid, unable to (immediately) understand how the tracks snapped together, picked that sumbitch up, bit it, and then threw it as far as she could.
I feel like I should time-travel into the future, find her spouse, and just start apologizing right now. She's feisty, ya'll.
It's basically a peg board. You take tiny little colored rubber bands and stretch and criss-cross them all over the loom. Then, in theory, you end up with a bracelet. If you're lucky, your kid will make you a bracelet that is too small for your wrist and cuts off your circulation like some unusually colorful tourniquet. She made one for my mom that would possibly fit a squirrel's wrist - if the squirrel in question was super svelte. As an added bonus, the colors in the bracelet are unlikely to match anything you've ever worn. I have a lime green one, for example.
I found an article about the man who invented the Rainbow Loom, in case you'd like to direct your ire at a specific individual. I feel like he needs to come to my house and pick up the bajillion tiny bands that litter the carpet. I find them in the laundry, in the bathroom, under the couch, etc. At this point I'm surprised we're not pooping them out. Well, the dogs might be for all I know - I don't really look too closely at what comes out of them.
As craft projects go, I can see why the loom is so attractive to kids. I mean, you can churn out a bracelet in just a few minutes. Then you can be cool like all of your friends! The tricky thing, though, is that there are a bunch of different patterns for these bracelets. There is a standard chain-type design that every kid can probably do. Then there is something call the Starburst design. Apparently this is the pinnacle of loom bracelets. My daughter attempted it last week. She sat down at the computer and found a YouTube video containing instructions for the making the bracelet. In the link I supplied above, please note that those instructions contain 24 steps. TWENTY-FOUR. If I ask my daughter to put her wet towel down the laundry chute and then put on her pajamas, she will complete one or the other of those tasks, but not both.
At first, I was pretty impressed. She sat at the computer desk for a while, pausing the video every few seconds so that she could carry out the instructions. She had bands stretched out all over the loom. But then, she got confused on one step and seriously lost her shit. She flew into an apoplectic rage and threw the loom. Bands flew everywhere. Instead of yelling at her, I scooped her up (because she was crying to beat the band) and told her that the Starburst design is considered to be an advanced configuration. I know this only because I'd seen a few people mention it on Facebook. There was no consoling her, though. I picked up the loom and put it back in the box. She accused me of pulling off some of the bands, and of course I had done no such thing. I took the loom away from her and made her go to bed. She wailed all the way down the hall, because her life was ruined and all.
When my daughter was two and a half, my mom bought her a plastic train set for Christmas. It was really cute. The colorful tracks snapped together and you could even configure them into a circle. The kid, unable to (immediately) understand how the tracks snapped together, picked that sumbitch up, bit it, and then threw it as far as she could.
I feel like I should time-travel into the future, find her spouse, and just start apologizing right now. She's feisty, ya'll.
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