Christmas shopping around here is…interesting. Jake is easy. He just chooses one expensive Lego set and we are done. Well, “done” if you don’t count the endless discussions of the Lego set’s merits, the intricacies of the design, etc. This goes on for weeks during which time you just may want to poke your own eardrums out with a sharp object. I am appalled that the cumulative price of all his Legos could bring relief to several small countries, but it certainly is simple to push the “Order” button at Lego.com.
Molly, who is more likely to play with an old Bandaid than her American Girl dolls, is not so easy. She is a creative spirit; she is unique. In the above picture she is playing with a gourd.
Remember last year when she asked for:
A mouse
Tickets to a Jonas Brothers’ Concert
Never to go to Home Depot Again?
She did not get her first two choices, but we did give her a fancy schmancy certificate freeing her from any/all future Home Depot trips. She was pleased. This year we realized we failed to put an expiration date on the Home Depot decree, so now we have to figure out a new gift.
“Well, I don’t know what to ask for because the one thing I really want I know you won’t get me.” Big sad eyes. “What is it?” I ask. “A King Charles Spaniel puppy.”
How right she is.
My problem is compounded by the fact that my sister just adopted a teeny tiny dog, whom we will meet at Christmas. She has a chocolate lab, too, and she is blowing my excuse that you can’t have a large dog and a small dog together. Thanks, L.
As I said, Molly is not easy to shop for. When she was 4 we got her the My Pretty Pony that talked and said things like, “Feed me, Mommy,” “I need my Pacifier,” and “I love you.” Ten minutes into it on Christmas morning, Molly declared, “This pony is too much work.” Back into the box it went. The nice thing is she doesn’t ask for video games, laptops, cell phones, or gadgets. The hard thing is that she pretty much asks for nothing.
I am at a loss. So I bought her this.
To me this is basically an Easy Bake Oven. You know, like the one I never got as a kid, but that I see lined up in multiples on the thrift store shelves every time I go shopping. I can imagine a mom’s delight when she tosses this honking piece of plastic into the donation bin, reclaiming prime real estate inside her home.
Yeah, this crayon maker has the potential to be used about 3 times if I’m lucky. Lots of plastic packaging, lots of plastic parts. Mucho environmental damage, and of that I am not proud.
But please do not judge. It’s December 21, and at least it’s not a puppy.
