This isn’t about dangerous toys. I honestly wouldn’t even know where to begin such a list. When I was a kid, if you wore a bike helmet you were King Dork of Nerd Mountain. Nowadays, you need a helmet just to ride the school bus or you’ll end up suing the NFL. The standards for safety have changed so drastically that I’ve pretty much stopped giving my kid anything that has corners. I’m not even joking: my son has never had a Saltine. NOTHING BUT RITZ.
Instead, this list is about the worst gifts for kids. Not all kids, like I said, I can’t speak to that. But the worst gifts to buy your own children. I don’t give a shit what my neighbors give their kids. At least not until my son sees whatever cool new toy Rohan-across-the-street’s parents bought him and starts waking me up in the middle of the night screaming for it.
I swear to god, last week I found my kid at his little desk with a stack of papers with “No ‘Jake and the Neverland Pirates’ Hideout Toy Makes Me a Dull Boy” scribbled all over them in crayon. He wrote “NAP RETEP” in red lipstick on the back of my bedroom door. It was terrifying.
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