... who wants everything!
Christmas is fast approaching, and there were a few groceries I wanted to pick up for the house before next week (you could not pay me enough money to go out to the stores next week, I promise you, we would do without those items first). That said, I decided Connor and I would make one last grocery run on our last day together (tomorrow is the last school day before winter break for all three of the boys).
Because we had more time than we were going to need to do our shopping, I decided to let Connor have a small treat. No, not the kind you buy, just something that he enjoys doing. I let him browse (and browse and browse) in the toy section. He always knows, and is reminded, that we are only there to look, that we are not going to buy anything. We spent almost an hour, just looking.
There were lots of "Ooh!" and "Ah!" and "Look at that!" and "Maybe someday I have that!" moments. He wanted everything, it seemed. Hot Wheels? Yes, he wanted the entire two aisles worth of Hot Wheels and their assorted tracks and cities and toys. Everything he saw, he wanted. Trains? Yes, he wanted each and every one. Games, yes, he liked almost all of them (just not the "girl" ones). Blocks, yes, but only the "big boy" ones, not the "little kid ones, those are for brothers!" Plays sets? Yes, yes and yes. They were some kind of step up from the Little People, for the slightly older set. One was a submarine set with people and animals, one was a rescue helicopter with people, and another was a tank. He wanted one of each, please.
And then we came to the holy grail of all toys. The Nerf aisle. He has been fascinated with shooting lately (wonderful, right?). He got his first Nerf-like gun set for his birthday, and now he wants every other weapon he can possibly amass. The $8 Nerf sword was his favorite today. Yes, he would never use that to hit his brothers. No, not my son.
Next came the girl toys, and we didn't even bother to look at those. "These are for girls!" he told me, clearly disgusted. And then he started heading toward the groceries (without prompting, for once in his life). He had apparently looked until his heart was content.
Though I sure he would have enjoyed it more if we'd actually brought at least one of his many coveted items home, I think he would agree it was a fun way to spend our last Mommy & Me day together, despite having to get a few groceries, too (all of 10 minutes, I swear, it was that few).
It was fun to watch him get excited about toys, to see which ones were truly the most exciting by the way he picked them up or talked about them or reluctantly put them back on the shelf. Even the other shoppers (and the store clerks) in the store were turning to look at him, grinning down with that knowing smile as he picked up something he couldn't resist.
The magic, the wonder ...