Sawyer the Saw, or, Making My Son Happy While Killing the Earth
Today Henry and I went to Kohl's Department Store so I could use a $10 coupon that expires tomorrow. I tried on numerous pairs of shorts without finding anything that fit (why do all pants gap in the back on me?).
Henry was getting a bit cranky, and I couldn't think of anything else to spend the coupon on, so we headed over to their very small toy section.
I figured I'd pick up something creative and open-ended like chalk or sand toys, but Henry latched on to this:
And yes, it is even more horrible in person. It's a big hunk of plastic that requires batteries and makes noise. Not only does the blade whir around and make the requisite saw noise, the thing talks.
Why does it have to be a talking saw?
I repeatedly told Henry I was not buying it. It was too noisy, too obnoxious, just too much. I picked out a Thomas the Tank Engine book and a shovel for the sandbox and he fairly readily accepted the exchange.
As I wheeled him up to the checkout, though, I started feeling guilty.
Just because I thought the saw toy was obnoxious didn't mean I had to undermine his choice. He didn't really need another train book or another shovel; I just picked them out because they fit within the $10 limit and they seemed fairly innocuous.
And the way he so readily put the saw back on the shelf when I told him it was time to go -- he was just so good about following my request, even though he was fascinated by the toy.
When we got up to the front of the store I leaned over and asked him if he'd rather have the saw than the things I picked out. He said yes, and I explained that although I wasn't crazy about it, I recognized that it was important to him.
We turned around, went back to the toy department, put the book and shovel back and found the saw.
And now I have yet another noisy, plastic, battery-operated hunk of junk expanding my home's carbon footprint.
Honestly, I can't figure out if this episode demonstrates growth as a parent or a slip-up on my part.
On the one hand I'm proud to have acknowledged that Henry's desires can have equal or even more weight than mine, especially when it concerns what he does and what he owns.
On the other hand, I just gave in to buying my kid Sawyer the Saw.
Maybe I'm just over-thinking things.
Henry was getting a bit cranky, and I couldn't think of anything else to spend the coupon on, so we headed over to their very small toy section.
I figured I'd pick up something creative and open-ended like chalk or sand toys, but Henry latched on to this:
And yes, it is even more horrible in person. It's a big hunk of plastic that requires batteries and makes noise. Not only does the blade whir around and make the requisite saw noise, the thing talks.
Why does it have to be a talking saw?
I repeatedly told Henry I was not buying it. It was too noisy, too obnoxious, just too much. I picked out a Thomas the Tank Engine book and a shovel for the sandbox and he fairly readily accepted the exchange.
As I wheeled him up to the checkout, though, I started feeling guilty.
Just because I thought the saw toy was obnoxious didn't mean I had to undermine his choice. He didn't really need another train book or another shovel; I just picked them out because they fit within the $10 limit and they seemed fairly innocuous.
And the way he so readily put the saw back on the shelf when I told him it was time to go -- he was just so good about following my request, even though he was fascinated by the toy.
When we got up to the front of the store I leaned over and asked him if he'd rather have the saw than the things I picked out. He said yes, and I explained that although I wasn't crazy about it, I recognized that it was important to him.
We turned around, went back to the toy department, put the book and shovel back and found the saw.
And now I have yet another noisy, plastic, battery-operated hunk of junk expanding my home's carbon footprint.Honestly, I can't figure out if this episode demonstrates growth as a parent or a slip-up on my part.
On the one hand I'm proud to have acknowledged that Henry's desires can have equal or even more weight than mine, especially when it concerns what he does and what he owns.
On the other hand, I just gave in to buying my kid Sawyer the Saw.
Maybe I'm just over-thinking things.
posted by True Mama at
2:33 PM
1 Comments:
what a good mama. sometimes talking saws are just the trust and love that no matter what, everything really is alright; not good or bad, but just fine.
i often go there when my daughter wants something that i just don't jive with. but her love of a barbie doll has nothing to do with my idea that it's a poor representation of a woman, she has no idea of the concepts i now grasp about body image and marketing, yadda, yadda. she just likes the shiny doll with hair to cut and a face to color over with her markers. and so i let it be.
mb
misplacedmama
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Anonymous, at 9:09 PM
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