I do not have children of my own.
Thus, I know little to nothing concerning the actual taking-care of actual children.
The other night, Handsome made some comment about how "[his] children are gonna starve, because [he's] never giving up food off of [his] plate for them" and so we've moved the have children date a little further back on the calendar.
(Do those two words mean the same thing?)
When we have children, there is one thing that I know we'll be on the same page about:
No Noisy Toys.
Yes, as an aunt, I've supplied my nieces and nephews with noisy toys. Tons of them. I feel it's not only my right, but my duty, to buy toys for my n&n's that their parents don't want them to have. And "yes", with a family as large as mine & Handsome's, we're likely to end up with a great number of noisy toys gifted to us someday, for our less-than-intelligent and less-than-attractive children. [I love low expectations]
However, noisy toys can be disabled.
Batteries can be removed.
Bells can be cut off.
Toys in general can "disappear".
We're already practicing with Duke-a-loop. See those Wubba Kongs up there? The one on the left (your left, not his) has a broken squeaker. The one on the right has a working squeaker. A working squeaker that almost hastened Duke's exit from this world, but that's a story for another time. Apart from setting the two toys down and telling Duke to sit, I gave no other commands during this experiment.
When given the choice between a noisy toy and a silent one...
Duke knows which one I want him to pick. See him looking at me? He's on to me! He knows that Wubba is the wun I wunt him to wuv. He knows that the other one isn't a good choice. It will only end in heartache and tears.
Doesn't stop him, though.
So that noisy toy has to go away for a while. We've explained it to Duke by telling him that there are other dogs in the world who don't have toys, and so we're donating some of his to them... Which is true, as long as those other dogs know how to get toys out of a dumpster... Okay, just kidding on that last part. But we do hide/sit on/throw the noisy ones.
Luckily, he's a dog, so he loves us
He just got my nose, I swear,