No way, we thought when Clover made a very late addition to her Christmas list. No way are we getting a toy that will only hold her interest briefly, while annoying us for a very long time. That it was too close to Christmas would have been a solid final response, but really, there was a set of grandparents who still needed a gift idea because all of the other art supplies, books, and trinkets had been taken by other relatives who don't wait until the last minute to shop.
Please, no Furby, we continued.
Suddenly, it was the eve before Christmas Eve, and the grandparents still had no gift. I started having second thoughts. It wasn't because my parents still needed a gift, but if they hadn't, the issue would have been moot. As we thought about what they could buy her, the Furby was the only thing left that Clover really wanted. There were two small reasons why I was weakening: one, I worried her friends would get one, and she'd be hurt, especially because her best friend already owned one and they wanted to play with them together; and two, a gift needed to be purchased. It was the third thought that was major, and won Clover a Furby: she's 10. She's on the cusp of growing out of toys, and into the realm of teen-dom. Shouldn't we hold on to childhood for one more Christmas? Next Christmas it could be electronics, and clothes, but for now, it was still a toy.
That thought was how Kevin and I found ourselves late at night at a Toys R Us that appeared to have been looted. We waded through the mess to find there were no Furbys left. Of course, once we decide to let her get a Furby, it's too late. I drove through the rain to Target, while he looked on his phone to see if Amazon could still overnight (nope). Thankfully, pushed back on a low shelf, were six yellow and teal Furbys, ready for a home.
We didn't tell Clover our opinion had changed, which meant when she ripped open the gift from my parents, she was both surprised and excited. One of the first things she said was to me, "HA! I GOT IT! HAHA!" Her moment of excitement was worth it, not only because it was the toy we'd rejected, but because how often in life do you get a present wrapped so that it cannot be guessed by size, sound, or shape, only to have it be the one thing you really wanted, but never thought you'd get. Even if we've learned more about Furbish than we'd ever wanted to know (and we'd wanted to know nothing), it was worth it.
As long as no one wakes him up. Please, do not wake him up.