Why more Is NEVER enough

 

At tea break the other day, one of the women I work with recounted the trials she went through to secure a Hatchimal for her daughter for Christmas.

 

(Note to those without children under ten: A Hatchimal is a Furby-like bird that pecks its way out of a plastic egg once it gets attention. More on Furbys below).

 

She did track one down eventually in T.K. Maxx, so now Christmas has been salvaged - even though the particular Hatchimal she bought has a blue egg, and her daughter wanted pink.

 

 

Her travails reminded me of my own search for a Furby a few years ago.

 

I was so desperate, a friend of mine on holiday in Spain picked one up for me.

 

It’s first words were “Hola”, which took some explaining to my nine-year-old daughter.

 

In any event, the Furby ended up behind the couch within days.

 

The only reminder of its existence is a freakish tendency to light up and start babbling without warning just when you are settling down to watch something mindless before bed.

 

 

No doubt, the Hatchimal will meet the same fate, flung into a basket with other toys as soon as the novelty of its egg-trashing act wears off.

 

Under beds and in attics and landfills across the Western world, there are Elsa dolls, Tickle-me Elmos, Buzz Lightyears, BeyBlades, and a host of other toys that were the must-haves of their day.

 

When I was growing up it was Cabbage Patch dolls and My Little Ponies, although my parents would never have known.

 

I don’t remember ever getting anything I ever asked for from Santa - but I don’t ever remember being disappointed either.

 

Children have an incredible capacity for fixation, for obsessing about something and convincing themselves that the acquisition of that something is the only thing that will make their lives worthwhile - for about five minutes.

 

 

We forget about their incredible capacity for forgetting.

 

We convince ourselves that, unless we get them the one thing they want for Christmas, we will ruin their lives, when the fact is that even if you do manage to squeeze a unicorn down the chimney this December 25th, they will have become bored with it by December 27th.

 

So don’t tie yourself in knots trying find a Hatchimal this Christmas.

 

I know where you can get a delightful Hispanic Furby instead.

 

Aoife O'Carroll is a separated mum living in Co Kerry with her two boys aged 17 and 14, and a girl aged 10.