"We were never even IN aisle seven!"
Today, we made the trek out of the house to visit Stacey for lunch and pick up a few essentials at the Bi-Lo near campus that's just waaaay too into showing school spirit. (everything from to the grocery carts to the sign outside and even the employees are covered in orange). I've run some errands with Connor before, but this was my first time in a grocery store with him. I set him down once we got inside and he ran his brains out with this devilish smile on his face (he looked like a demonic Calvin with about a hundred different versions of "Hobbes" all around — tigers, ya know?)
Apparently, he seemed to think that the grocery store was his own personal toy chest — albeit one of magnificent proportions in comparison to his toybox back home. He was into everything he either isn't allowed to play with at the house (plungers, cleaning supplies, etc) or doesn't have access to (anything that costs more than $5, basically). Like most kids, I'm sure, Connor would much rather play with a measuring cup or a calculator than the actual toys that he has, no matter how many lights or whistles they might have. But, that hasn't stopped us from acquiring an army of building blocks, toy cars, or even the Little Tikes golf clubs that he likes to swing at our heads when he's mad. Sure, he'll play with his toys when faced with no other alternative, but when he gets resourceful enough, he'll dig up some Tupperware or sheet pan to tide him over. (It's sad, really, watching him try to score some pots or an empty pitcher.)
If a toy manufacturer tried to pass a common, household object off as a toy, nobody would buy it even though every one of them (who is a parent) knows that kids don't really want actual toys. They want what we're using. Proof? Connor has his own set of keys (unmade blanks and a few trinkets on a key ring) but he wants our keys instead, and he can definitely tell the difference. If I thought I could package random crap as toys and parents would actually buy them, don't think I wouldn't have tried that business venture already. (Hmmm, might the bag of glass be the first product?)
Apparently, he seemed to think that the grocery store was his own personal toy chest — albeit one of magnificent proportions in comparison to his toybox back home. He was into everything he either isn't allowed to play with at the house (plungers, cleaning supplies, etc) or doesn't have access to (anything that costs more than $5, basically). Like most kids, I'm sure, Connor would much rather play with a measuring cup or a calculator than the actual toys that he has, no matter how many lights or whistles they might have. But, that hasn't stopped us from acquiring an army of building blocks, toy cars, or even the Little Tikes golf clubs that he likes to swing at our heads when he's mad. Sure, he'll play with his toys when faced with no other alternative, but when he gets resourceful enough, he'll dig up some Tupperware or sheet pan to tide him over. (It's sad, really, watching him try to score some pots or an empty pitcher.)
If a toy manufacturer tried to pass a common, household object off as a toy, nobody would buy it even though every one of them (who is a parent) knows that kids don't really want actual toys. They want what we're using. Proof? Connor has his own set of keys (unmade blanks and a few trinkets on a key ring) but he wants our keys instead, and he can definitely tell the difference. If I thought I could package random crap as toys and parents would actually buy them, don't think I wouldn't have tried that business venture already. (Hmmm, might the bag of glass be the first product?)
posted by Carter at 9:18 PM
1 Comments:
Yep, been there done that, but with Daddy's very expensive Suround Sound Stereo System. Thank God, mine are older now.... whew
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