thedrifter
10-14-07, 08:23 AM
Lisa's Laws: If they said it, then it's true
October 14, 2007
Every kid knows that the earth revolves around the sun.
Bella, my first-grader, even has a place mat with a color picture of the solar system and, as she eats her after-school snack, she can see how our corner of the universe is laid out. The Earth goes around the sun. And while she has no actual evidence, she trusts this to be true.
Bella also knows that on this Earth, there is one place that's just a little bit better than everyplace else: Toys R Us.
Now trust me, I realize that there are terrific independently owned toy shops across our region, and that's where I do my shopping. But Toys R Us knows what kids like: shock-and-awe quantity, a substantial real estate footprint and unmitigated stimulation. And since her dad and I avoid the place at all costs, getting there is a constant goal for Bella, and much of her days are spent plotting ways to cross its threshold. She absolutely believes it's the most thrilling place in the Town of Wallkill, maybe in all of northern Orange County.
Bella also absolutely believes that Santa brings toys to every child on the Earth, regardless of where they live, what kind of jobs their mom and dad have, and even if they're poor and don't get all that much for their birthday. Santa comes for everybody. She trusts this to be true.
Of course, Christmas is months and months and maybe even 100 years away, so it's not much on her mind. But getting a birthday present for one of her pals was a priority this past Columbus Day, and she was intent — and in case you don't know any 6-year-old girls, I should note that they can be more intent than a power drill — on getting her friend Barbie the Island Princess. From Toys R Us.
So fine, we go. And even though I know that she knows exactly where all the Barbies are, we veer off into a completely different direction, Bella leading the way. There's no such thing as a surgical strike into Toys R Us for just one thing. There's always a bit of meandering involved as she savors her too-infrequent visits here. We check out the board games, where she makes a mental note of which ones she'll suggest to Mrs. Williams for her first-grade class at Ellenville Elementary. There's the stroll though the stuffed animal department. Stops at baby dolls, play kitchens, and at the table with the little wooden train set. Then it was over to the DVDs.
It was there that we first saw the two Marines, young men dressed in service uniforms, filling a cart with kid titles. They were clearly having a ball, pulling movies off the shelves, reminiscing with one another over their own favorites, and, well, acting like a couple of kids in a giant toy store. I pointed their cart out to Bella.
"Boo, look at how many movies these guys are buying," I said.
"They're not for us, ma'am," said one of the Marines.
But Bella had rounded the corner, sights set on the Polly Pocket section. The Marines, I suppose, continued their spree. And the unrelenting distraction of the store pretty much erased the encounter from my thoughts.
Eventually, Barbie the Island Princess in hand, we made our way to the registers at the front of the store. It was still pretty early, so we didn't have to wait on line. As we checked out, though, I noticed eight or 10 shopping carts, one more laden with toys than the next, lined up at the front of the store. Then a Marine added yet another to the row.
Bella just stared. I did, too.
"Toys for Tots," the young man at the cash register explained while he handed me my change.
As we headed toward the exit, Bella was still staring at the overflowing carts, not really sure what it was all about. That's when one of the Marines walked up to her, leaned down a bit, looked her in the eye and said, "We work for Santa."
Then he was gone, back into the aisles with an empty cart that would undoubtedly soon be filled.
Bella was speechless for a few moments. But as we walked across the parking lot holding hands, she looked up at me and said, "Mama, I never knew that soldiers helped Santa."
But a Marine told her so, and she trusts this to be true.
Sullivan County resident Lisa Ramirez reveals her common-sense rules for savvy living each Sunday. Contact her at Lmjramirez@hotmail.com.
Ellie
October 14, 2007
Every kid knows that the earth revolves around the sun.
Bella, my first-grader, even has a place mat with a color picture of the solar system and, as she eats her after-school snack, she can see how our corner of the universe is laid out. The Earth goes around the sun. And while she has no actual evidence, she trusts this to be true.
Bella also knows that on this Earth, there is one place that's just a little bit better than everyplace else: Toys R Us.
Now trust me, I realize that there are terrific independently owned toy shops across our region, and that's where I do my shopping. But Toys R Us knows what kids like: shock-and-awe quantity, a substantial real estate footprint and unmitigated stimulation. And since her dad and I avoid the place at all costs, getting there is a constant goal for Bella, and much of her days are spent plotting ways to cross its threshold. She absolutely believes it's the most thrilling place in the Town of Wallkill, maybe in all of northern Orange County.
Bella also absolutely believes that Santa brings toys to every child on the Earth, regardless of where they live, what kind of jobs their mom and dad have, and even if they're poor and don't get all that much for their birthday. Santa comes for everybody. She trusts this to be true.
Of course, Christmas is months and months and maybe even 100 years away, so it's not much on her mind. But getting a birthday present for one of her pals was a priority this past Columbus Day, and she was intent — and in case you don't know any 6-year-old girls, I should note that they can be more intent than a power drill — on getting her friend Barbie the Island Princess. From Toys R Us.
So fine, we go. And even though I know that she knows exactly where all the Barbies are, we veer off into a completely different direction, Bella leading the way. There's no such thing as a surgical strike into Toys R Us for just one thing. There's always a bit of meandering involved as she savors her too-infrequent visits here. We check out the board games, where she makes a mental note of which ones she'll suggest to Mrs. Williams for her first-grade class at Ellenville Elementary. There's the stroll though the stuffed animal department. Stops at baby dolls, play kitchens, and at the table with the little wooden train set. Then it was over to the DVDs.
It was there that we first saw the two Marines, young men dressed in service uniforms, filling a cart with kid titles. They were clearly having a ball, pulling movies off the shelves, reminiscing with one another over their own favorites, and, well, acting like a couple of kids in a giant toy store. I pointed their cart out to Bella.
"Boo, look at how many movies these guys are buying," I said.
"They're not for us, ma'am," said one of the Marines.
But Bella had rounded the corner, sights set on the Polly Pocket section. The Marines, I suppose, continued their spree. And the unrelenting distraction of the store pretty much erased the encounter from my thoughts.
Eventually, Barbie the Island Princess in hand, we made our way to the registers at the front of the store. It was still pretty early, so we didn't have to wait on line. As we checked out, though, I noticed eight or 10 shopping carts, one more laden with toys than the next, lined up at the front of the store. Then a Marine added yet another to the row.
Bella just stared. I did, too.
"Toys for Tots," the young man at the cash register explained while he handed me my change.
As we headed toward the exit, Bella was still staring at the overflowing carts, not really sure what it was all about. That's when one of the Marines walked up to her, leaned down a bit, looked her in the eye and said, "We work for Santa."
Then he was gone, back into the aisles with an empty cart that would undoubtedly soon be filled.
Bella was speechless for a few moments. But as we walked across the parking lot holding hands, she looked up at me and said, "Mama, I never knew that soldiers helped Santa."
But a Marine told her so, and she trusts this to be true.
Sullivan County resident Lisa Ramirez reveals her common-sense rules for savvy living each Sunday. Contact her at Lmjramirez@hotmail.com.
Ellie