Operation Missing Bucket!

Before we could do anything else today, Vince, my 5 year-old son,
insisted that we try to find the missing bucket from his Operation
Game.The Operation Game has changed over the last generation (or two).
There are several different versions now. Milton Bradley has sold out
to everyone from Marvel comics to the Simpsons. The generic patient
with the wrenched ankle is for chumps, nerds, or worst of all, kids
without cable. (GULP!)Vince is the proud owner of SpongeBob Operation.
SpongeBob has all sorts of new ailments. There is no nearly impossible
rib to remove, no Adam's apple. No, this new version has snot coming
out the nose and a gaseous cloud coming out of his butt. What kind of
insurance does SpongeBob have where he's covered for a procedure to
eliminate farting? If my wife can get this included on our policy I'm
headed for elective surgery for sure.The current version of Operation
is also completely electronic. The kids don't have to read cards to
know what to remove. They listen for a signal that keeps repeating
until they have completed say, the "cellphone finger"-ectomy. It's a
great innovation for preschoolers who can't read, but a nuisance for a
parent playing along. For some reason children carry an immunity to
repetitive sound. Vince casually attempts to remove SpongeBob's "bird
brain" while a tweeting sounds emits from the game board. This does
add a certain authentic urgency to the procedure. I'm like the
assisting nurse watching vital signs on a monitor as I shout, "Dr. if
the tweeting doesn't stop soon this game is going in the trash,
stat!"This morning Vince informed me that the little white plastic
bucket that denoted "water on the knee" was missing from the Operation
Game. The bucket measures about 1/8" by 1/8". Here's where having a
neat kid shows its disadvantages. Vince really enjoys putting his toys
away. He loves throwing everything in the right basket or bin. It may
be his age, but he's kinda been this way all along. Mostly it's great,
because his bedroom and the family room (and the living room and the
dining room and the kitchen) are not covered in toys. But when there
is something out-of-place he finds it a little, shall we say,
disconcerting? Basically it's meltdown time.No parent wants to see
their kids in such distress. And who wants to listen to the wailing?
Certainly not I!I've put a system in place that seems to work for all
those little do dads and easy to misplace pieces:1) Bins of varying
sizes. Large bins hold all Vince's dinosaurs. Medium bins hold Vince's
cars. Smaller bins hold all those items that are hard to categorize
(Happy Meal toys, Chuckie Cheese prizes, stuff out bubble gum
machines).2) Zip Lock Bags are one of God's gifts to modern parents.
Careful, you'll want to make sure not to start using these until your
little one is at least three years old. These keep puzzle pieces
neatly together and prevent losing any. Also all the tokens for Candy
Land or Chutes and Ladders (inside the game box), and, yes, all those
little plastic pieces from the SpongeBob Operation game are less
likely to turn up missing.3) Rubber Bands (or "elastics" as we call
them in New England) work well inside game boxes too. All those Candy
Cards stay put. Vince was over four before he got the idea about how
much it can hurt to play around with these stretchy wonders, so you
may want to wait a bit longer than the zip locks to introduce the
rubber bands.With a little organization and a cooperation all your
little man or woman's toys and accessories will be enjoyed over and
over.The good news is that Vince will have moved on by lunch. He
doesn't obsess like his father. He doesn't hold a grudge like his
father. If he didn't look so much like me I'd insist on a paternity
test. Yes, as I write this, Vince has moved on. And when I finish
I'll go back down to family room and resume the search. Because one
reason kids move on so well is that they assume their parents will
take care of everything. And at 5 they should be able to make that
assumption.