Alan Kercinik has been a Chicagoan his whole life and a dad since 2009. He finds it easy to relate to his two boys, since he still likes most things from his childhood. All opinions here are his own, to the relief of his wife, employer, family and majority of his friends.
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Before I left for New York, we took the boy toy shopping. Part of it was so I wouldn’t feel quite so bad about leaving. Part of it was seeing him freak out with happiness at going to another kid’s house who had, well, a lot more stuff than Jack has.
There are a lot of everyday parenting decisions where my wife takes the lead. What he eats. Much of his wardrobe. When he should go to the doctor because he’s not feeling well. She’s a good mom. A really good mom.
But picking out toys for my son? I’ve got action figures on book shelves and a PS3. My whole attitude while we were in the Toys ‘R Us was, “I got this, babe.”
Most toys, especially for boys, are licensed properties. I have no fundamental issue with this; it’s not like I feel like I need to raise my kid on a play diet of Lincoln Logs and empty shoe boxes. Jack likes dinosaurs. I like the Toy Story movies. So Rex, the insecure dinosaur, looked like a no-brainer.
“Are you sure about that one?” the wife asked.
I pressed the button on Rex’s back. He said one of his pre-recorded sayings. His little dinosaur legs moved in their little plastic packaging. Jack laughed. I put Rex on the shelf. Jack pointed and grunted at him.
“Absolutely,” I said, in this kind of, “I love you, but please don’t question me on this,” tone.
–
About forty-five minutes after we get home, we’ve got Jack’s new stuff out of their boxes. This has gotten complicated. Everything has to look good on shelf, so most things are tied into half-open boxes with a series of small plastic twist ties. Scissors and an advanced degree in packaging mechanics are requirements.
Couple of dump trucks. Some cars that speed around when you pull them backwards on the floor. And Rex, in all his scaly green plastic glory. I hit the button on his back. He starts walking toward Jack. That didn’t go over so well.
“He’s scared of it.”
“No. It just surprised him.” I hit the button again.
Jack has that young girl in a horror movie look. Big eyes. He’s scooting backwards on the floor.
“Roar. Were you scared?” This from Rex.
Jack is babbling something, kind of pointing. I pick up Rex. He goes on a shelf in my office.
“Sorry, buddy,” I tell him. We play with dump trucks for an hour.
–
When I get back from New York, I bring home another toy. This sort of anime, big-head stuffed Spider-Man deal.
“Huh. He’s kind of ugly.”
“Don’t bad mouth Spider-Man.”
“I thought he’d be a plushie.”
People don’t do a lot of scoffing anymore. I scoff. “They don’t make plushie Spider-Mans.”
Jack sees him on a nightstand, walks over and starts pointing. I hand him over. “What do you think, buddy?” I ask.
He can’t get enough of him. In the backseat, he’s hugging him. Literally. He rarely hugs us.
The boy loves Spidey. Toy-picking radar is back on. And all is right in the world.
3 comments
1 ping
SponsoredTwit says:
June 11, 2010 at 5:59 pm (UTC -5 )
RT @AlanKercinik: New blog post: how I scared my kid with new toys. http://www.alwaysjacked.com/2010/06/a-ta... #parenting #fatherhood
Ali Montag says:
June 17, 2010 at 5:47 pm (UTC -5 )
By far my favorite post. Makes me want a little guy to dress like a hipster/hippie and buy stupid crap that I secretly want for myself but can't justify (eh hem, Mr. Kercinik – Toy Story Rex). You're grooming a mini-Alan, good things are happening.
Alan says:
June 17, 2010 at 6:51 pm (UTC -5 )
I want to be really clear…I’ll put stuff in front of him and, sincerely, if he isn’t interested, I won’t push it. But I can’t say my heart didn’t explode when I saw how much he liked Spider-Man.
Alan Kercinik says:
June 17, 2010 at 11:54 pm (UTC -5 )
I want to be really clear…I'll put stuff in front of him and, sincerely, if he isn't interested, I won't push it. But I can't say my heart didn't explode when I saw how much he liked Spider-Man.