He’s our newest arrival. He joins roughly 25 trains (of all varieties) and a gazillion cars and trucks.
We are by no means wealthy, but if you were to measure wealth by the amount of matchbox cars one has, we’d be the wealthiest family this side of the Mason Dixon line.
The problem is my constant trips to Target. I’ve cut down, but we still head over to Target once every few weeks. Today Fynn’s phrase on the way there was “I can’t wait to see Target! Mommy, I can’t wait to see Target!”
Cute bad mommy moment.
But getting back on point. The reason why we could be rich in terms of matchbox cars is that every time we go to Target Fynn gets to pick out a toy. Not because he’s necessarily been extraordinarily good, but because it makes him happy. We go to the toy aisle and pick out one matchbox car. Or one train (which is hardly the 99 cent equivalent of a fantasy on wheels). But still, he gets to pick out something every time we go to Target.
And that’s my fault . I know that. I get that. It’d be easy to say “no, this time we’re not bringing a toy home from target just because we need laundry detergent”.
But it makes him so happy. And proud. You cannot imagine the cuteness that occurs when he carries his toy up to the checkout lady and puts the package on the conveyor belt and waits for it to get scanned through.
However… the problem is that Paige gets left out (and the real problem is that he expects a toy every time we go to the store…. but I don’t want to deal with that…). And please, don’t let me go into the shortage of appropriate toys for me to get for Paige every time we go to the store. I’m not going to buy the girl a Barbie or a Polly Pocket every time we step foot into Target. At last with cars the imagination has some sort of unlimited access.. but really, I won’t start on the shortage of educational “girl” toys…
So we welcome Stanley for the moment. And not mention to Fynn’s daddy how we brought another toy home to join the clan.
My thinking is that maybe, just maybe, if I type this out on this blog… maybe it’ll be incentive to not buy another matchbox car, not buy another train, the next time I go out with the kids. I always think – I just won’t bring the kids with me! But really, sometimes it’s necessary. Like today, I had to get two new pillows, otherwise my mother, who came into town today, would have never let me hear the end of the crappy pillows I let her sleep on for how many nights in a row… (just kidding of course mom 😉 ).
But really, I could just say no, and let the tantrum happen once, and then it’d be the end of it.
So that’s what’s going to happen. So help me. No more new trains. No more new cars.
But for now, welcome to you Stanley. We love you, like we love every other train and car and truck in our collection.
And please, tell me I’m not the only one who has the problem of multiplying cars, trucks, and trains.