There is a talking Minion somewhere in my house. A talking cactus, a turtle, dinosaurs, animals and enough toy trucks to start a small transportation company. And my son Duggu’s favorite ride? An empty Huggies diaper box!
Not just any ride, though. This one comes with a rather demanding passenger. Before we go anywhere, he loads it with his favorite cars, balls, and whatever else catches his attention. One day, he even brought his favorite blanket along. Apparently, comfort matters when you are traveling across the living room.
Once everything is packed, he is ready to go. Except his car has one small problem. It cannot move without Dad. So there I am, pushing a cardboard box around the house while a collection of expensive toys sits somewhere nearby. And the best part? He is perfectly happy with his little arrangement.
I wish I had known this before buying half the toy store.
The Things We Never Thought Would Become Toys
I have lost count of how many times we have bought something for our son, thinking he would absolutely love it. Sometimes he does. Sometimes the excitement lasts a while, and sometimes something completely unexpected catches his attention.
Like a laundry basket. Whenever either of us starts doing laundry, our little assistant wants to join in. Duggu knows where his basket is, drags it toward the washing machine, and gets himself involved. He even helps his mama separate whites from colors. But his helpfulness has a very clear boundary: folding clothes. He has absolutely no interest in that department. In fact, if you leave a neatly folded pile within his reach, there is a good chance you will be folding it again. I cannot say he makes laundry any faster. But he certainly makes it more interesting.
And it is not just laundry. Our workstations are another favorite attraction. My wife and I spend a good part of our day working on our computers, and naturally, he wants to investigate what keeps us so occupied. Especially the computer mouse. Some mornings, before I can even log in, I have to go looking for mine. Apparently, somebody has already started his workday with my equipment.
One Goal, Two Celebrations
Then there are the things he picks up without us even realizing it. I remember watching FIFA with Duggu. Every time I shouted, “Goal!” he would shout it too. Same excitement. Same enthusiasm. Suddenly, watching a soccer match became twice as entertaining. He was not interested in understanding the rules or following the score. He was simply joining in on something that made Dad excited.
And that is something I have started noticing more often. He watches us closely. When I sit down to read, he sometimes finds a book of his own. When we are working, he might settle nearby with something to scribble on, a few balls to count, or another little activity that has caught his interest.
Other times, he wants to be right in the middle of whatever we are doing. There is no fixed pattern. He has his own ideas, and those ideas can change pretty quickly. But somewhere between the cardboard-box rides, laundry sessions, and disappearing computer mouse, I started looking at these moments a little differently.
I Thought I Was Keeping Him Busy. He Was Busy Watching Us.
When I first started buying toys, I was mostly thinking about what would interest him. Something colorful. Something interactive. Something educational. I wanted him to have things to explore and enjoy. And I still do.
But I had not given much thought to how interesting our ordinary routines might be to him. To us, laundry is a chore. Working on a computer is just part of the day. Watching soccer is something I enjoy. To him, these are things his parents do, and he wants to be part of them.
That realization has also made me more conscious of my own behavior. I try to be mindful of what I do around him because I know he is watching. Not just when I am deliberately showing him something, but when I am going about my day. If he can pick up my excitement during a soccer match so easily, what else might he be noticing? It is a question I find myself thinking about more often as he grows.
And the funny thing is, while he is busy learning from us, we are also discovering more about him. Nobody taught him to turn a diaper box into a car, pack his belongings, and request transportation around the house. That was entirely his idea. My contribution was apparently limited to providing the horsepower.
Would I Buy All Those Toys Again?
Probably not all of them.
Do not get me wrong. I am glad my son has toys. He enjoys his trucks, dinosaurs, and other little treasures. I enjoy buying things for him, too. And I am certainly not suggesting that parents should stop buying toys. But if I could do it again, I would buy fewer. Not because the toys were necessarily a waste of money, but because I have realized that I do not always need to find something new to keep him interested.
Sometimes, he is happy playing with his toys. Sometimes, he wants to help us with whatever we are doing. And sometimes, he creates an entire adventure out of something we were about to throw away. I have also realized that spending time together does not always mean planning an activity around him. It can be as simple as letting him join us in something we were already doing.
Of course, that takes patience. Laundry does not get finished as quickly, work gets interrupted, and the house does not always stay organized. But those are trade-offs I am becoming more comfortable with.
A Little Less Shopping, A Little More Noticing
I am not going to pretend I have stopped buying toys. The next time I see an interesting truck or dinosaur, there is a good chance I will still be tempted to bring it home. But I have become a little more selective. I used to think mostly about what new things I could introduce him to. These days, I am equally curious about what he will discover on his own. And more often than I expected, those discoveries involve us.
That has probably been my biggest realization as a father. I spend so much time thinking about what I can teach my son, what I can give him, and what experiences I can create for him. Meanwhile, he is quietly reminding me to pay attention to the life we are already sharing.
I do not know how long Duggu’s cardboard-box adventures will continue. Knowing him, he might discover something completely different tomorrow. But for now, I am happy to be part of them. Even if my official responsibilities include pushing a diaper box around the house and searching for my computer mouse before work!
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