At least with kid's toys.
For Christmas this year, my sister-in-law bought our daughter a toy that basically shoots small plastic balls into the air with random amounts of force and, to a lesser degree, direction. While I appreciate the gift, it might be a bit early for the wee one because the balls go everywhere and it would take her forever to go collect them all and put them back into the ball-firing-mechanism. Nevertheless, it did amaze her to watch her older cousins play with the new toy and the noise of the music and fan added to an already overwhelming day for her.
So, what happens when you leave Daddy to entertain the wee one for several hours? He finds ways to get the wee one involved with her new toys. Knowing that the wee one likes fans and air blowing in her face, I thought it might be fun for her if I tipped the toy over and just had it blow air at her. Solid plan, it seemed, because wee one though this was very funny, with her limited hair blowing in the breeze. That was of course, until the one fatal flaw in the plan was revealed when the ball chamber, thought to be empty of contents, was hiding one surprise. I watched a two inch plastic ball launch out of an item I was aim at my daughter's head and plunk her squarely in the face and the wee one's transition from laughing to crying was seamless. The good news was that I did this directly in front of my mother-in-law. Oh, wait, that's not good news.
The interesting thing is that up until recently, the wee one has had a goldfish memory and would have been playing with that same toy 10 minutes later. That stage has apparently passed, because anytime we turn it on now she looks terrified and tries to scootch up any part of the nearest adult. This might be a toy that goes away for a while and comes out in a couple of months for a retry.
This is the last non-science post for a while, I promise. Happy New Year.