Feed the Beast

photo copy 9

Two weeks ago I smiled smugly as I watched my children and their cousins swarm around mobile devices of all kinds in an attempt to figure out how to get a piece of candy hanging from a rope into the mouth of a small green creature named, delightfully, Omnom. I was acquainted, of course, with this endeavor. “Cut the Rope” was, in fact, the first game I purchased (with Manchild’s money) for my phone. I have, in fact, cut many ropes, popped many bubbles, deflated many air cushions in the service of Omnom’s insatiable appetite. But I was always truly above such things. I did it as a show of love and support for my children. That is all.

One week ago I would have been happy if no one fed Omnom ever again and he died of starvation. He sits there lazily on his platform or whatever, waiting for someone to figure out which rope to cut first so that the candy will bounce off the right platform, at the right angle, into the correct magic hat, high enough to reach the correct bubble, which will then allow the player to possibly (!) get 3 (!) more stars on his quest for the 56 (!) stars he needs to unlock the Valentine’s Box. Which box holds more secrets that Manchild  the player will then speak incessantly about for the next several days. But if no one feeds Omnom, then maybe the endless chatter will shrivel up and die too. Maybe? I could only hope.

Today I’d had enough. It needed to stop. All this talk of stars and boxes and the mysteries lying beneath that padlock and chain. So, I cut the rope. Many, many times. I popped bubbles. I deflated air cushions. I avoided spikes. I did what it took to make it stop.

And . . . I rocked it. I rocked it so hard that we got the last 17 stars needed to unlock the Valentine’s Box. The secret of the Valentine’s Box: the candy is in two pieces. The player must bring the two halves together to make a whole before it is allowed into The Tunnel of Love Omnom’s mouth. How romantic! Speaking of which: I love this game. Me and the boys sitting down together, mapping out our strategy, collecting stars, feeding a helpless little green creature who loves candy, texting Micah about our progress throughout the day?

Three gold stars in my book.


ps Sara: It was so fun to meet you yesterday! It totally rocked my world and made my day/week/month/year . . . I could die happy. So thanks for saying hi.

Related Posts with Thumbnails


  1. This is literally my fourth attempt to comment because apparently I have bewitched sausage fingers that keep pressing random buttons before I could get here, and all I wanted to say was: “I love imagining you wasting time.” that is all. Not worth the four attempts, eh? But seriously I love this post and it’s maddening cuteness. And you and your maddening cuteness.


    lizzie Reply:

    I love your bewitched sausage fingers. Totally worth four attempts. And if you think that was time wasted . . . well, you just don’t know what “wholesome recreational activities” looks like in the Heiselt home in January. 🙂

    Okay, okay. It was time wasted. But we were at the laundromat. What else was I supposed to do?


  2. Oh! It was wonderful to meet you as well! Sorry if I was bit awkward! I was in my own li’l world, running a bit late to class and then was just so shocked to see you! As it is with people you only read about, it felt as though a story book had come to life. It was wonderfully surreal and totally made my day, week etc! Thanks for being so calm and wonderful about it! And thank you for sharing so many adventures, trials and joys that are your life!


    lizzie Reply:

    It’s so fun to hear my life described as “story book”! Thanks again for saying hi. It was a magic moment for me.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


© 2018 Mother Runner

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑

common themes