If not, then you are lucky. There is one less thing cluttering your house.
Welcome to Silly Bands, or as they are known by their other moniker, Zany Bandz.
They're so zany, they pluralize with a "z"! Now that's zany!
My kids first discovered them at school. "Mom, can we PLEEEEAAASSSE go to Hallmark to buy some?" my 8-year old begged.
I'm not one to just take my kids to the store and buy them whatever they want whenever they want it. Raising spoiled brats just isn't my thing. However, they were being particularly good one day, so I said, "Tomorrow we'll go to Hallmark."
I might as well have said, "I'm taking you to Disney World tomorrow and we will be riding the teacups and telling fart jokes with Zack and Cody," because loud cheers erupted from my 8 and 9-year old sons.
And that is the simple brilliance of Silly Bands.
I have never seen a commercial for them. Until my children told me about Silly Bands, I had not read about them on the internet or in a newspaper. It's all word-of-mouth by children. It is pure marketing genius at its finest.
They are simple rubber bands in the shapes of hundreds of objects. A football. A princess crown. A dog. A star. Their appeal lies in the fact that they are just that. Appealingly simple. When first seeing them for myself, I was taken aback by the fact that in the year 2010, with all the technology that abounds among children, such as Wiis, Nintendo DS', PSPs and iPods, someone would say, "You know what? I'm going to pitch colored rubber bands to stores, and kids will buy them. They will trade these rubber bands with their friends, and a new fad will be born."
And, yes, they are buying them and trading them in droves.
Have I mentioned that it's a RUBBER BAND, people? A humble little piece of stretchy latex?
According to a newspaper article I read last week, our local Hallmark store sells several hundred packs of these a week.
That's a crap lot of zaniness, people.
When we went to the Hallmark that day, I bought ONE pack of Silly Bands for my children. Five dollars was a small price to pay for pure joy. The kids were putty in my hands for the rest of the day as I would just look at one of them and say, "Keep up the bad attitude, and the bands are mine." There are 24 bands in the pack, containing 6 of each design, so it was simple, perfect math. I have four children, and each child would get 6.
My dear mother-in-law found out about Silly Bands and bought each child TWO packs. Now let's do the math.
8 packs of Zany Bandz + 1 pack purchased by me, multiplied by 24 bands in each pack + the bands they received from friends, divided by 4 children = A CRAPLOAD OF ZANY/SILLY BANDS IN MY HOUSE.
As of last count, we have a grand total of eleventy kajillion bands in my home.
Give or take a kajillion.
We lost a few of them, however, when I
May they rest in peace.
The rest of the bands have been collected by me and assembled into the above pile because my children have realized that it's kind of annoying to wear 20 rubber bands on their arms at a time.
And thus, they are pretty much over the Silly/Zany Bands/z phase.
However, far be it from me to begrudge a loving grandmother the opportunity to spoil her beloved grandchildren. It is a grandparent's right to spoil. Within reason. And I guess the Zany Bandz unfortunately fall in the "within reason" category.
The bands are small and inexpensive, and when the fad has waned, like it seems to be around here, I will just add them to my office supply collection because of their usefulness. Meanwhile, some forgotten fads still linger. My children are over the Webkinz phase, yet the 'Kinz sit there, cluttering their bedrooms in all their stuffed animal glory. Of course, my children will not allow me to get rid of any 'Kinz, heaven forbid, but they never play with them anymore, mostly because they were booted out of Webkinz World recently via a computerized message. It said something to the effect of, "Hey sucker, you must shell out at least $14.99 to buy a new Webkinz if you want to visit your virtual pets. If not, screw you, and hasta la vista."
Stinkin' stuffed animals.
When I am a grandmother, I plan on indulging my grandchildren with the latest fad. Whatever it is, I will buy truckloads of it, bring it over to my adult children's homes, and say, "Grandma's here!" I will then proceed to drop piles and pile of crap on the table and let my grandkids have at it.
I truly hope that marbles will be all the rage in the future, because somehow I just know that my adult children will love that. What parent wouldn't love thousands of marbles in their home?
Someday in the future, I will sit with my grandchildren as one of my grown children inwardly curses me and trips over the marbles I have just brought into their home. I will look over at my son or daughter and say, "See? Now you know what I was talking about when I told you to pick up your things. Payback sucks, doesn't it?"