Christmas is right around the corner, and will rush in weeks before Christmas trees appear twined to the roofs of minivans. Countdowns dangle in store windows like wishes on stars. Just 30-some more days until your kids get enough junk to make you consider setting your house on fire and starting over from scratch. Every year, children throughout the country and the world wake up to unwrap more stuff than any one person should own in a lifetime. We are talking hoarder status here. Parents grit their teeth and bite their tongues, smiling and saying thank you all the while dreaming up the special ways those annoying whirling gizmos and talking gadgets can die quick but terrible deaths. And every year I wish there was a frank, lay-it-all-out-on-the-table book of guidelines for anyone gifting anything to any child anywhere. This year, I’m writing my own. This is the guide for anyone who is buying my kid a gift.
For the love of God, no more stuffed animals. We have 5,000 of them, and for the most part, they sit in the corner collecting dust and boogers. The number of stuffed animals in a home should not exceed the number of children who live there. One child? One stuffed animal. Two kids? Two stuffed animals. I’m sure you can follow the pattern. Stuffed animals serve one purpose, to get dirty and then promptly ruined beyond recognition in the washer.
Glitter is the herpes of craft products. It never goes away. It sticks to everything. It’s clinically proven to drive parents to complete and utter insanity. If you send glitter to my house, I will consider it an act of terrorism. I will never forgive you for gifting my child glitter. You may want to consider joining the witness protection program and becoming a sheep farmer in the outback.
If it needs batteries, it is probably loud. If it’s loud, I’ll be sure to find a way to return it to your house so it can give you a heart attack when it starts singing at 3 a.m. Or I’ll take the batteries out of it and tell her you bought her a bum toy.
And, while all these sentiments are genuinely felt as I cringe with each tear of the wrapping paper, I do appreciate you thinking of my child during a hectic and overwhelming holiday season. The truth is I really wish you’d spend some time with said child. Come visit, take her to a movie or to the park, or colour with her. She’s got so much junk, but she only has one you, whoever you are. Besides, Mama needs a break.
Post from Scary Mommy.