When I was a kid, I wanted a “bubble” themed birthday party.  We got bubble wrap and bubbles you could blow and…well, I guess that’s kind of it as far as the “theme” went.  But still, awesome, no?

And then there is the time that my brother and I officially went to war.  We have this really badass picture of us in armor.  Yes, ARMOR.  We went to town on a cardboard box and lo! emerged with shields and swords.

His shield was teeny tiny bit more badassical than mine.  For some reason I heard about the “War of the Roses” and thought it sounded really awesome so I drew two roses having a battle on my shield except it hindsight it looks less like a battle and more like two roses in an “X” pattern.  Maybe if they’d been dripping blood?  I’m sure the purple background didn’t help.  (Shut up, I thought it looked “regal”.)

Anyway, like I said, Sean’s all black shield + lightening bolt just screamed “I will melt your face off; behold my might!”

Where was I going with this?

Oh,  YES.  People who think I will be the worst parent ever because I don’t want my kids to have a bunch of toys.  (I set the limit at 5 but, for the record, books do not count as toys.  And legos count as one toy.  And paint and paper and chalk are just supplies…you get the drift, yes?)

While I understand that no one ever parents exactly the way they think they will, I’m pretty firm on this toy thing.  (I know kids who have a room just for their toys.  A whole room!)

I mean, I made my own dolls out of palm fronds and sticks.  I loved to read.  (And could actually sit down to read a whole book!  For fun!)  And I almost constantly had a fort.

Like how I used to talk Sean into taking the top bunk.  (He was SUCH a sucker for reverse psychology except that was the only way I could get anything because he’d pitch such a fit and dad would give him whatever he wanted except the only stuff he ever wanted was what I wanted and can you feel my pain here, people?)

So after I talked him into the top bunk, I would flip the blankets over the side and create my own little space of awesome.

Or the time I spent the night before St. Patrick’s Day rigging my Leprechaun Trap.  You can imagine how sad I was when the box slammed shut in the middle of the night and I jumped out of bad only to discover nothing and concluded that either (1) Leprechauns are invisible or (2) they are really freaking fast.  (The jury is still out.)

Plus we lived with our father and our mother was super far away (Texas) and so she used to read us bedtime stories.  Well, she’d read them while her tape player was recording and then send us the tapes.  We WORE THOSE TAPES OUT.

My point?

Childhood need not be supplied with plastic toys from China to be magical. I mean, it isn’t like there was NO magic to be found but thank God for cheap child labor in Asia so that American kids could FINALLY experience what childhood was always SUPPOSED to be like.

Conclusion?

LESS TOYS, MORE BOXES.