How the Toy Industry Made Me Go Insane

I swore I would never be one of those parents. You know the ones, they rush around at Christmas trying to find the "it" toy for their kids. They enlist other family members and friends to be on the lookout for this toy. Like it is going to change their child's life. I was doing so good. I made it through two kids and had never been tempted into this dark maniacal routine. Then came last Christmas.

My daughter somehow fell in love with Elmo. She had never seen him on TV. I think she liked seeing his face on the box of diapers. Anyway, she loved him. One of her first words was, "momo". Which in baby talk means Elmo. When the new Tickle Me Elmo was released last year it was impossible to get. Since my daughter's birthday is 2 days after Christmas I was searching for a way to make it special. I didn't want the two days to blend together. Never once did it cross my mind that she was turning one and she wouldn't know the difference anyway.

I didn't set out to find the new Elmo. I wasn't going to get her the new Elmo. I did look for it every time I was at the store, but I wasn't making special trips or anything. If I saw one, then great. If I didn't, then that was fine, too. Then the email came. The toy store was going to get 40 Elmo's per location. You could only buy one. The letters were all in caps. The picture was so bright. "Get here early," it said. It was calling for me. "You need to get this for your daughter!" The toy store opened at nine. I suddenly knew what I had to do.

Now somewhere in the back of my mind I must have known I was going down this path. I didn't tell my husband what I was going to be doing the next morning. Somewhere deep down I was embarrassed and mad that I was falling into a trap. I knew I was becoming a pawn in the toy manufacturer's game. I was going to be a part in everything I hated about what they did to the meaning of Christmas. "But this would be for her birthday so it's okay," a voice in my head said.

The next morning I went about my day as usual. Breakfast made, check. Lunches packed, check. Kids on the bus, check. Mom and baby hightailing it to the toy store two hours before it opened, check. There I sat in the store parking lot with about 10 other cars. It was a little cold out so everyone was sitting in their cars. I knew I was good. 10 cars should leave plenty of Elmo for me.

I decided to call my husband and let him know what I was doing. I figured it was safe because I was really going to get an Elmo. He wasn't mad. He knew how much our daughter loved Elmo. He just told me to make sure we were safe. He didn't want us getting trampled or anything. Just as I told him that everyone was just waiting in their car I saw a door open out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see someone getting into line.

"They're lining up, gotta go," I shouted at my husband. I raced out of the car to get my daughter out. Darn it. She took her shoes and socks off while I was on the phone. Hat on, gloves on. Why do they make these buckles so hard to do in these car seats? Come on, come on......there we go. We make a dash for the line. One, two, three...number 14. We are number 14. We are going to get an Elmo. I do a mental dance. So there we stood. Only two more people came to stand in line behind me. Maybe this Elmo wasn't as big as we were lead to believe. Maybe they only released a few to drive the demand and the price up. I didn't care. I was getting one.

Finally those doors opened. In I went and got my Elmo. It was quite uneventful really. I was so excited I called my sister. In hindsight, this really showed my craziness this day. I was so ecstatic that I had this children's toy. It was like I had won the lottery. Home we went.

We took the toy out to try it and it was pretty neat. It laughed and stood up and rolled around. My whole family thought my daughter was going to love it. I was so happy I had gotten one for her.

Her birthday was a good day. We had dinner and cake. She was a little unsure of all the singing and attention she was getting. Then came the big moment. She unwrapped her present. We opened the box and her eyes lit up. "Momo," she shouted. As she reached to give Elmo a hug he started in on his routine. He was laughing and shaking. My daughter was screaming and trying to climb on top of me to get away from Elmo. She cried every time she looked at him.

Elmo was banished to the top of my daughter's closet. Every time she looked at him she would cry. It is now 10 months later and my daughter does play with Elmo--finally. It took a one year old to bring me back to my senses. If I am ever tempted to go down that path again, I will remember that look of terror on her face. It's just not worth it for anyone. That's what lesson my daughter taught me.