He’s surrounded by dozens of cars, at least half of which are from the movies “Cars” and “Cars 2.” Yet, at least once a day he asks me if we can go the store with toys. Whenever I round the kids up to run errands, he asks, “Are there toys there? Can I get a new car?”
I sigh. “You have plenty of cars, honey. You just got new ones for your birthday! You don’t need another new one.”
“Yes I do!” he wheedles. “I don’t have ____” and he names off another character or another color of a character from the Cars movies.
Disney and I have a love/hate relationship going on.
But as frustrated as I get with this Groundhog Day-esque conversation with my 4-year-old, I can’t point my finger too long.
Because I do the same thing.
I too want something new for the sake of newness. It’s a high to put something in the shopping cart, whether virtual or plastic/metal. To bring it home and rip off the packaging. To exult in the acquisition.
But the high always fades. And so quickly. Sooooo quickly. The next day I’m thinking about the next new thing I want.
I don’t want to live that way. Now I know, now I have seen how most of the world lives, with not enough food to grow and develop as they should. I cannot indulge in endless new crap when there are children who need food and mothers who have nothing to feed them. It’s time to break my addiction to the high of new and develop a new addiction to the high of give.