When I go shopping with my daughters, I love to swing by the toy section. But not necessarily for them. I have a secret obsession with toys. Having kids is just a wonderfully convenient cover-up.
My daughters, on the other hand, seem to see things a bit differently.
When I say, “Look at this great little toy bird! It jitters when you pull the string, and has a plastic ring you can chew on!” my 8-month-old stares at me blankly before resuming her exploration of an old washcloth.
Or when surrounded by a floorful of bright, colorful toys, she somehow always finds the outlet protector that’s been yanked from the wall and cast aside during a vacuum raid.
And you can forget about rattles and teethers; the dog’s water dish is WAY more interesting.
Then there’s my two-year-old, who considers it a special privilege just to turn the faucet on, fill up a teaspoon, and dump it into a cup…repeatedly.
Play jewelry is all well and good, but not nearly as mesmerizing as the glass gems and marbles from Mommy’s decorative vases. My favorite is when she doesn’t even know what she’s playing with, and just calls it “something” or “this.”
And honestly, who needs coloring books when Mommy and Daddy have so many boring documents that need decorating?
In the end I wonder, “Why do I even bother buying toys at all?”
The answer is simple: to appease my own inner child. 🙂