“Mom, can we go to Target so I can get a new Lego set with my birthday money?”
I know I should be doing back-handsprings of joy for an excuse to go to Target, but didn’t we have enough Legos already? I told myself it was his money to spend how he chooses, and if that meant adding to the Lego museum that was his bedroom, then so be it.
“Short, you have a lot of Lego sets. What about saving the money instead?”
Here I got a look like I had perhaps suggested he chop up his tennis shoes and eat them for lunch.
“Save it?! It is my birthday money! I. Want. To. Buy. Legos.”
I sighed. “Why? You have so many already.”
“But I have already played with all those. I want something new.”
His comment jolted me like biting into a shard of glass in the middle of a pasta casserole. Something new. Of course! This was not about acquiring or not appreciating what he already had. This was a matter of human beings being hard-wired to seek stimulation. How is the same thing you already have and have already played with a million times stimulating? It’s not. We want something new. Which explains why I never read a book twice or watch a movie twice.
Pretty, shiny, new. Did I need another sundress when I already had 6 hanging in my closet? No, but I was bored with those. I wanted to wake up my brain synapses with something new.
“I get it, Short. We can go to Target tomorrow… do you mind if Mommy looks at a few sundresses while we’re there?”