Ever since Thanksgiving, Stephen has been madly drawing things on his Christmas list, adorably entitled “My Cresmes Lest” in cute 5 year old handwriting. Every time he sees a commercial on TV, he races to the refrigerator, takes down his “lest”, and draws a picture of whatever product they are advertising. He now has 2 pages of nerf guns, spongebob toys, balls that turn into cars, cars that turn into balls, guns, guns, superheroes, legos, and guns (are we noticing a theme?). As his writing has improved, sprinklings of “Mommy can I plese have? Plese have?” are also popping up among the drawings of guns.
One toy that continually gets mentioned, drawn, and written on his Kindergarten letter to Santa, is the “hulk puncher.”
Eric and I decided in November that we were not going to get him something called “hulk puncher.” Clearly, anything with the word “puncher” in the title cannot be a good thing in the hands of a 5 year old boy. However, as “Cresmes” approaches, I am starting to worry Stephen will be very disappointed if there is no hulk puncher under the tree on Christmas morning.
But simultaneously, with my mommy vision super power, I forsee what would happen if there were a hulk puncher under the tree. Stephen would of course, begin punching the easiest, shortest target around, namely Adrian. Adrian would cry for two reasons:
1. He’s getting punched by hulk punchers
2. He wants a hulk puncher so he can punch things too
We would tell Stephen to stop punching Adrian and share a puncher with Adrian. He would whiningly comply, and then we would have 2 little boys with punchers running around punching the tree and other assorted Christmas decorations. We would tell them to quit running around punching these things. They would then turn on each other with the punchers. They both cry because they’re getting punched. Daddy would get mad because of all the punching, whining, and crying, and take the punchers and throw them in the basement. The boys would have fits because their new punchers got taken away. Then Daddy would throw them in their room to scream. Thus, we have Christmas morning, a brand new toy already confiscated in the basement, and two boys tragically crying in their room. Merry Christmas!
OR one sad Kindergartener with no Hulk puncher that he was longing for. Which is worse?