by AMY CHENEY
After nearly wetting my pants when I read this, I propose to attach the following additions; take notes old people.
1. Any toy from the $9.95 and under bins. You know the ones sitting tempt tingly close to the enormous line up (of which you are unfortunately part of) at your local Australia Post Shop? The ones you tend to just rifle through with no higher purpose than that of relieving your boredom for ten seconds? The ones with the 1000 piece puzzles? I have news. 1000 piece puzzles are not character building and frankly I don’t need it sitting on my dining room table half finished for the next two months. There is enough crap on my dining room table as it is. Put.It.Back.
2. Any kind of fake pets. I know that Karen covered real animals in her blog but don’t think that in lieu of a real animal you can give a fake; like pretend dogs and cats; fur-reals if you will. Because unfortunately even the fake ones shed hair too (especially when it is being overenthusiastically ‘styled’ with the Barbie brush) and if I wanted to look like a crazy cat lady with fur all over my clothes, I’d just get a cat…or ten.
3. Any toy requiring batteries – which you have not already put batteries in. Because the remote control only has so many that you can pilfer and call me a lazy arse but I like having a remote control that actually works.
4. Any toy which needs a tool kit just to dislodge it from the pack it is ensconced in. Quite frankly the high pressure situation of a three year old bursting with excitement because they wanted that Barbie out of the pack, like, yesterday, is just too much at 5am on Christmas morning. Plus Barbie runs the unfortunate risk of me losing patience and just yanking her from the box; which may or may not (read; may) result in the loss of one of those scrawny limbs of hers.
5. Any toy that requires more than five minutes assembling from me. Lego creator packs I am looking at you – there is no way a five year old could put that shit together.= display_ad('x18', 'hidden-xs hidden-md mm_incontent', 'MM In Content'); ?>= display_ad('x20', 'visible-xs mm_mob_incontent', 'MM In Content (Mobile)'); ?>
6. Any toy that is significantly more fun than the one I purchased for my children. They already think they love you more; thanks largely to your refusal to discipline them in any way, shape or form, but please don’t out-do me at Christmas.
7. Anything with the words ‘craft pack’ on it – no glitter, paint, sparkles, impossibly small beads, crayons the baby will eat, glue, texta, feathers, sequins or buttons.
8. Any toy that requires sibling involvement. So that game that says ‘Fun for the whole family’ or ‘Requires two or more players’ in very small print on the side of the box? Out. We all know how that is going to end.
9. Hideous clothes and/or shoes that you know I am going to hate and they are going to love and demand to wear everyday for the next six months. This is the gift that just keeps on giving. If you want to walk down the street with a five year old dressed up like a cheap hooker with high heels on then save it and let them wear it when they visit your house.
10. The gift you gave them last Christmas which they are now asking you to replace because they can’t find the original. It went ‘missing’ for a reason. Just let it go.
Amy Cheney is a sometime writer and mother of three little bitties (who quite literally drove her insane). You can check out more of her work here.
So, Christmas presents. Anything on your anti-wish list?