Recently I had the horrific experience of finding myself in a Wal-Mart super-center. In the toy aisle. Surrounded by lots of parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles buying lots of stuff. Apparently there is a “give me stuff” holiday coming up and super walmart’s shelves are overflowing with toys that make me pause. I found myself frozen, highly alert, watching the people while simultaneously categorizing the toys in my head. My fascination with the gender specificity of toys was equaled only by my new interest in the link between the toys and over-advertised TV shows. The packaging is so overdone and so gender specific. The people just kept piling them into their cart; the kids just kept asking for more. My heart ached. Misbehavior, mistreatment, neglect, irritation, frustration, screaming, slaps on the ass, surrounded their carts filled with all these toys. My eyes widened as I felt overwhelmed with despair. I nearly had a panic attack in the toy aisle of the Wal-Mart. And I wouldn’t have been at all out of place.
My sadness stayed with me as I stood in line, waiting for Mike to find saran wrap. And then I heard the little boy behind me stomp his feet and tell his dad how much he hated this day and how much he wanted whatever it was that he did not get. Dad stood with the youngest boy in his arms, clutching a very girl looking doll. I stared. The middle boy squatted on the floor trying to open the ants in my pants game that he was getting. And the oldest boy, with the stomping feet, stood nearby with a very age appropriate game of “Guess Who.” I waited for dad’s response. He cleared his throat and said, “I know that you are not very happy. I know that it was not a perfect day. Not all days are perfect days. I feel upset too when my days aren’t all that I want them to be.” And just like that, my faith in people was revived by a family that not only picked through the rubble to find appropriate toys, but also talked to their children like civilized respected human beings. And to top it all off, the youngest boys choice of a toy marketed to girls didn’t seem to even give them pause. The middle boy asked if they were going to get candy, and the dad suggested sugar free gum, to which these grateful children applauded and cheered.
I started to drown in the Super Wal-Mart in Orlando, but was rescued by a family that never even knew I was watching them. Mike chastised me for not saying something to the dad, giving him some sort of stranger support, and I wonder now if I should have.
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