By definition, every Chindogu is an almost useless object, but not every almost useless object is a Chindogu. In order to transcend the realms of the merely almost useless, and join the ranks of the really almost useless, certain vital criteria must be met. It is these criteria, a set of ten vital tenets, that define the gentle art and philosophy of Chindogu. (Chindogu.com)
Early in our marriage, my wife and I, like many couples before us, decided that our lives were incomplete. So we set out on a passionate quest to produce what we thought would fill the empty void in our lives. And, lo', the pride that was ours when first we beheld our child. Destined was he to bring joy to our lives; to love and honor and cherish us; his strength, determination and perfection was to be a beacon to all those blessed chosen who would know him.
And then, reality struck like a thief in the night, which would have been okay, because, thanks to this ever-crying poop factory, we were unable to sleep most nights and would have apprehended the thief. We were also unable to do most anything else we had once enjoyed, including the very thing that had brought this little monster into our lives in the first place. What began as one of life's great dreams had turned into a nightmare. We were shunned by those we had once called friends, and scorned by fine establishments that had once welcomed us. Our lives were upended and will remain so for decades to come. And, as if under some trance, we repeated this insanity an additional four times.
And so, without further ado, I present to you my Chindogu, better known as : my children.
Seemingly solves a problem: check
Creates new problems: oh yeah.
Social embarrassment: in spades!
Really almost useless: no question about it!
No utility whatsoever: only time will tell, but the prospects are looking promising (or disappointing, depending on your point of view.)
You have been warned.
Go forth and Chindogu.