They say guilt has a way of creeping into your shopping cart. I didn’t believe it at first. But now, with a few years behind me as a parent and a few too many toys lying around the house, I kind of do.
Let me explain.
At some point in the chaos of work deadlines, Zoom calls, and late-night emails, I started noticing a pattern. Every time I felt I hadn’t spent enough time with my child—every time I skipped a bedtime story or missed a school event—I’d buy a toy. Not out of obligation. Out of love, sure. But also, let’s be honest—out of guilt.
And trust me, I’m not here pretending I’ve figured it all out. I’ve been there. I’ve done this. I’ve added unnecessary items to the cart, convincing myself they were necessary. After all, we’ve worked hard to reach where we are. Why not treat our kids a little?
Only, after a point, you run out of toys. Literally.
You start with the usual suspects—rattles, cars, soft toys. Then come the dump trucks, dollhouses, guns, skates, drones, and musical instruments that nobody ever plays. You go from toys to bicycles to badminton rackets to… dogs? Yes. When even the toys fail to compensate for the time you’re not spending, some of us (me included) think of getting a pet.
Like maybe a puppy can do what we didn’t.
Which is basically:
“Here, kiddo, here’s something that can keep you company while I stay busy being busy.”
But here’s the funny twist.
Now that my child is growing up and we’ve started having more meaningful conversations, I’ve realised something quietly heartbreaking.
He doesn’t remember a single toy.
Not one.
What he remembers are the silly things we did.
The nonsense we talked.
The places we randomly went.
The stories I made up to make him eat carrots and avoid chocolate.
The times we sang badly in the car.
The times we recorded ourselves making funny faces.
The moments we laughed for no reason.
All the things I thought were “fillers” in between our busy lives? Those were the things.
The real gifts.
I’m not saying toys are bad.
Or that we shouldn’t buy anything.
Or that we should drop our careers and sit in sandpits all day.
No. That’s not realistic. Or fair.
We all have our own set of responsibilities and ambitions. We’ve worked hard to get where we are, and there’s nothing wrong with pushing further. But somewhere along the way, maybe we started outsourcing our presence.
And we convinced ourselves that the right toy can fill the gap where our time used to be.
But toys don’t laugh with your child.
Toys don’t tell bedtime stories.
Toys don’t say “I’m proud of you” in a soft voice that only a parent has.
It’s not easy to catch ourselves in the act, I know. But if we could pause for a moment and reflect—maybe just once—we’d see that what matters most won’t cost much. And won’t be lying forgotten in some dusty drawer.
Let’s not spend our lives buying things they’ll forget.
Let’s spend our lives making moments they never will.
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A delightful read. Beautifully written.
Thank You 😊