My grandparents gave the kids this really wonderful wooden puzzle of the states. It’s terrific quality, and at first when you placed a state in the correct location, the puzzle would delightedly tell you the name of the state and it’s capital to congratulate you.
“Vermont! Capital: Montpelier!”
Over time, the puzzle has become sensitive to light, sound, movement, and casual breathing. Out of nowhere, the puzzle will emphatically exclaim the names of states and capitals even if all the pieces are in place. This seems to happen especially often in the middle of the night when everyone freaks out to be startled from sleep by a jarring, “ALABAMA!!!! CAPITAL! MONTGOMERY!!!!!!!!!!!”
Finally last night my dear husband, bless his heart, figured out a way to get the battery out of the puzzle using a complicated kit of tiny screwdrivers, knives, and duct tape. Fortunately for us the maneuver did not require the use of C4, because we do not have any C4 on hand. My husband is like Chuck Norris: he does not NEED C4, he IS C4 or something like that.
Now the puzzle slumbers peacefully with the other puzzles, providing intellectual stimulation quietly and peacefully to our grateful household. Perhaps one day, after the puzzle has had time to think about what it’s done and has learned its lesson, we will restore the battery. Then again, perhaps not.