My obsession with the unthinkable

I have been obsessed with a quite a few things in the past few years, songs, movies, books, mobile, TV shows… just the basic usual stuff. A few weeks back, I wrote a post where I question my obsession with my toddler, for which I still don’t have the answer. But now, I discovered that I am obsessed with the unimaginable – TOYS.

Yes, you read that right! I had never thought my obsession list would ever include something so trivial. But I guess, once you have a child, nothing is trivial anymore. So, anyway, this thanksgiving, I convinced myself that my son MUST have toys that I think are necessary. But, my inner self tells me,
he doesn’t really demand anything.” I hear another voice, “Oh, he can’t live a toy less childhood. Besides, this is the age when he needs to be playing with toys.” And so began my endless search for “The deals” that claim to be selling the best of everything at an affordable, unbelievable price. I analyzed, researched, hunted for toys, which I assumed would fill my son’s days with bliss.

Today evening, when I learnt that the toys had finally arrived in the mailbox, I urged my husband to come along with me to collect the parcel. Perhaps, I had mentioned it more than a dozen times to which he asked – why are you so excited about toys, anyway? I didn’t answer the question right away. Instead, I ignored him and grabbed the parcel towards home, where I excitedly tore up the box that contained treasured possession – TOYS. I opened up one by one, handing them over to my son, observing him in great detail as he welcomed the new guests. I noticed that he wasn’t very interested in the toys because he abandoned them after about five minutes.

I stared at him in disbelief, my insides screaming at him. “What’s wrong with you? You’re a toddler, you’re supposed to be enjoying these toys. Did you read this? It says here that it can keep you engaged for hours together and you have been at it for less than five minutes.”

My son simply walked up to his little cardboard shelf, from which he retrieved a couple of library books asking me to read them to him. After we were done, he picked up his old, shabby ball, calling me for a ball game. Then he looked at me, as if trying to say the things I had not listened before – “This is what I want, read books, throw ball, head out for a walk, a drive with you and papa, play the silliest of games with you, beside me in everything that I do. I know you always walk towards the toy section of the store instead of the grocery section because you are constantly looking for toys to ‘update’ my skills. But I don’t want any of those because they are not as interesting as it is to watch airplanes fly above my head or play through the slide in the park or walk along the pavement where I get to see other people and their dogs or stare at people at the mall or enjoy watching other kids outside or play the chasing game with you or hear you and papa talk endlessly about things that make no sense to me or simply to play on the kitchen floor while you bang your head between chopping and washing and cooking. Once I turn five or six, I am going to have a huge list of demands. So, why don’t you start saving your money than spending it on your obsession about watching me play with toys?”

I was perplexed by this thought, wondering why I hadn’t thought of this earlier. Before I could dwell on it, my son was already pulling me towards the door as he dragged his stroller. He smiled at me as if saying, “The weather is beautiful outside. Can we put this toy episode behind us and enjoy for a while?"

I smiled back, knowing that I finally learning my lesson and getting over my obsession.