4. Tranquilizer darts, set of 12, approved for guilt-free use by Health Canada on tots flinging noodles in diners.
5. An extra pair of eyeballs for the back of Mom's head, for use in cars in which small children are demanding that you swivel your head like a barn owl's to examine their Silly Putty formations while you simultaneously attempt to merge into the express lane.
6. A cloak of invisibility, à la Harry Potter, to be used for draping over sharp objects and dog poo. Later targets would include museum gift shops, McDonald's Happy Meal displays and the family telephone.
7. A portable, pocket-size, automatic answer generator to spit out replies to totally impossible questions, such as, "What's more important, Mummy, a mouse or a bush?"
8. A custom-designed mirror that fails to reveal stretch marks or flab and enables mothers to see, instead, the continuing beauty within.
9. Genetically engineered lice that implode upon hatching on your child's head, so that no teacher can spy them and toss your child out of school right before your big project is due at work.
10. A life-size blow-up Mom doll that can be placed in your child's bedroom while you tiptoe back downstairs to watch "Desperate Housewives."
It's a wonder that mothers haven't invented such gadgets except that, as I try to finish this sentence, my daughter is at my desk, asking, "So, what are you doing? Are you writing? What does it say?" and my son has just dropped a small rubber frog into my tea. (Did I mention the portal to a parallel universe? A good sleep and some spare hours? Just watch what we concoct in the lab.)
Patricia Pearson, who lives in Chelsea, Que., is the author of the novels Playing House, Believe Me and Area Woman Blows Gasket.
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