Last Friday night was one for the books at our house. If those books are dull, dull, dull accountings of household chores.

As sad as it would have sounded to pre-mom me, it was not actually a bad night. We got stuff done, including a massive sort of the toys. The toys! I believe they’re working together. One morning I’m going to wake up to find toys drinking my coffee, reading the paper and giving me not-until-I’ve-had-my-coffee attitude. Last Friday night I decided it was time to restore order, to remind the toys that the grown up people are in charge around here.

I have some issues when it comes to things, stuff, knick-knacks. I like everything to have a home and at the end of every day I want everything in that home. The kids’ toys are no exception. I’ve been a mom for just over four years, and for about three-point-two of those years I was a lunatic. Certifiable. I used to want every piece to every toy matched up, and I had to make sure everything was in place before I could relax. I once made my husband dig through the trash looking for six letters missing from our alphabet puzzle. I mean, what use is an alphabet puzzle with only 20 letters? Makes me woozy. (Turns out the letters were in the trunk of a toy car – and I had WATCHED my son put them there, but later, in my end-of-the-day fog, I forgot about the car trunk. Sorry about the trash digging, honey.)

Then I had another child and I had to let some things go: basic hygiene, drinking entire cups of coffee while they’re still warm, and perfectly organized toys. (I’m kidding about the hygiene. I still shower. Most days.) We still pick up every night, but my oldest child is responsible for most of the picking up and putting away, meaning Legos and Trio blocks often shack up in the same bin. Cars and blocks commingle. Dinosaurs bunk with tiny pirates. This kills me, but I know it would be way worse to raise a lazy, selfish kid who can’t clean up after himself.

To further complicate things, both boys recently had birthdays. I thought we did a good job of keeping the toy influx to a minimum, but even a few new toys is enough to wreak some havoc on the storage system. Also, we lost the red Busy Ball Popper ball. You know by now that a missing Ball Popper Ball* is driving me nuts. Clearly, it was time to sort, give away, store and reorganize some of the plastic, blinky, noisy crap that was taking over our lives.

As part of this effort, I also decided that some toys were way overdue for a cleaning. Every time I clean toys (not nearly as often as the experts recommend, especially for a house with a small, drooly, orally-fixated person who must. taste. everything), I am struck by how many of them say Surface Wipe Only. Really? Surface washing is not sufficient when trying to remove kid-gunk. Wooden toys aside, I put everything in the washing machine or dishwasher, and anything that doesn’t survive? Well, it didn’t deserve to be a children’s toy! Even most wooden toys and teethers are hand washable – more than a surface wipe – come to think of it.

My point? My question today?

I wonder why on earth any plastic or plush children’s toys would be Surface Wipe Only?

And while we’re on the subject, how do you manage toys – pick-up, storage, cleaning?

*We STILL haven’t found that damn red ball. I had this momentary panic that the one-year-old somehow managed to swallow it. If it can be done, he could figure it out. We’ve looked and looked. I’ve even offered a reward to the Finder of the Red Busy Ball Popper Ball – both four-year-old and 37-year-old have tried to find it, each with their own reward in mind. Still, no luck.