Holiday Shopping, or I Don't Think So

This year, I had a sad realization.  My children no longer grab up the Toys R Us Holiday circular, from the Sunday papers.  In times past, this would be a task they spent hours on, writing their names next to various items, and telling me to let Santa know what they wanted. They would pour over the “BIG” toy book, debating the merits of the vast array of new and wondrous toys.  Things would be added and deleted as the weeks rolled ever closer to the Holidays.

 Now they hone right in on the Best Buy circular. They have moved away from the legos and Pokémon of yesteryear, and dove straight into all things electronic.  The problem with this, besides seeing them move away from childhood, is the cost factor. In days gone by, I could buy six or seven nice sized presents, wrap them up, and be warmed by the look of excitement in their eyes, as they eyed the pile under the tree. This precious moment usually cost less than $100.00. They were happy, I was happy, and Dad, when he received the American Express bill, did not go ballistic.

The items on this year’s wish list all seem to have an “ I” in front of them.  I-phone, I-pod, I-touch. I have an I also, its’ I don’t think so. To create a pile of gifts that is bigger than a matchbox gift set (which they used to love) I need to fork over hundreds of dollars. They request game boy cartridges that are the size of a fingernail, yet carry the price tag of 3 manicures. They debate the merits of jig-byte power, to speed of performance.  I am clueless as to what they are talking about.  I still need help figuring out the TV remote. They are very specific as to brands of items.  Woe to the poor parent that tries to fob off a generic brand of the latest gadget, get ready for an eye ball roll, or two.

I recently reviewed the latest wish list.  Someone wanted only one thing, a motorized scooter. It wasn’t an I-scooter, but it still merited my I-don’t think so.  Another son requested a BB gun, ditto on my I position. First off you are 12 years old, it is illegal for you to drive a motorized vehicle. Secondly, I believe in the words of that great holiday classic, “you’ll shoot your eye out.” I had to listen to the stories about how “everyone” else has them, why can’t we.  I trot out that old chestnut; would you jump off a bridge, if everyone else did? They replied, “of course mom, its’ called bungee jumping, and that would make a fabulous present!”

The oldest of the bunch is relatively easy this year.  Just make it cash, thank you very much! He needs some new clothes, and I am expressly forbidden to buy them.  He feels I have questionable taste in fashion. Apparently he does not wish to look like Thurston Howell the Third. I was told I could try and pick something out, but I shouldn’t get annoyed when they make a return trip to the mall the day after Christmas.

So here I sit.  Pondering my choices, making sure everyone is treated equally.  I have seen my children (the very ones I spend money for arithmetic tutoring) adding up in their heads the exact amounts spent on each sibling! There must not be a whiff of favoritism, or you’ll have some explaining to do.

As much as I moan and groan, I still look forward to seeing them Christmas morning, eyes bright with excitement.  The wrapping paper and ribbons getting tossed about the place, and I think back to a time when the wrapping paper and the empty boxes were what they loved the most! Happy shopping.