We bought Buckaroo for Bubs as a last-minute Christmas present. She’d seen it advertised in-between episodes of Peppa Pig and had danced around the house shouting Buckawoo! Buck-aaa-woooo! When she decided that her unicorn hobbyhorse should be renamed Horsey-buckawoo I finally took the hint and sent Hubs off on a lunchtime mission to buy it.
On the big day I’m afraid to say Buckaroo was quickly cast aside by Bubs in favour of a sing-a-long CD player from her Grandad. Buckaroo has been sitting, unloved, on our bookshelf until this week when he was brought out of his box by a very tired mummy in need of some sitting down time, in hopes that he’d entertain the toddler for just a little while.
Buckaroo is every bit as fun as I remember from my own childhood. It’s the perfect toy for a spot of independent play and it didn’t take long before Bubs could reset it herself so I was definitely surplus to requirements, which suited me just fine.
Our Buckaroo seemed particularly tetchy though and would buck if you even so much as blinked at him. Bubs, whose patience is thin at the best of times and was made worse by a run of sleepless nights, was teetering on the edge of a meltdown and poor Buckaroo was chucked across the room.
And that’s when I noticed it. A little slider on the side of his horse blanket.
A little slider marked 1,2,3.
Guess which level we’d had him on.
Muttering about not having blasted levels on the original Buckaroo I reached over and flicked the slider down to 1.
Bubs, who had decided that she’d had enough excitement for one day, was having nothing to do with the pesky mule regardless of what setting he was on. A cuddle on mummy’s lap was called for.
And then a little nap, which is probably half the reason why she didn’t sleep that night either. I didn’t have the heart to wake her though and besides I was too busy marvelling at those long eyelashes.