They break apart into their various components: frosting, scoops of ice-cream, and toppings. You can break your eraser apart into as many as 8 pieces, and then you put it together again. But each piece remains fully functional as an eraser.
My children love this.
There’s been a mad rush for Sugar Shack Erasers. We are at Wal-Mart, and my daughters scan the aisles for these erasers. My oldest approaches an employee, who stands in a cluster of other Wal-Mart employees. She explains the importance of the Sugar Shack Eraser. Eyebrows raise. Apparently, this group of employees are managers and important members of some marketing team.
“We have to order those,” one man says. The other women nod. They recognize the urgency in my child’s face.
Ask a child if you want to know what sells. The Sugar Shack erasers are erasers for goodness sake. They are school supplies. But my children can’t resist an object that presents as one thing but actually transforms into something else. An eraser cheesecake is actually 6 little erasers, so tiny you can’t imagine them. It’s a puzzle and an eraser. Who knew?
“Mom, this is just awesome. We need to get all of the Sugar Shacks.” She’s thinking about a mistake she makes on her writing that she can erase with the little cherry from the top of her ice-cream cone eraser.
The Sugar Shack Erasers had me thinking as I wondered about what fascinates children.
Whatever is–the taking apart, the building back up, the secret you hold in your hand–it tells me something about living with flair.