Pillow Pet. Dream Lite. Stuffie. StickAForkInMe.

I’m a bit frustrated with my kids.  Their wish lists for Christmas this year were pretty lame.  Incidentally, every one of those lame gifts seem to be merchandise hocked in commercials on whatever new TV channel I started letting them watch a while ago!  Imagine!

Last Christmas the kids all pleaded for Pillow Pets*.  What a clever product–it’s a bumble bee/unicorn/dog which when the underside is folded and properly velcroed appears to have four legs and stand up!  Like your own pet!  Unvelcro it and voila–you have an entirely nonfunctional pillow!  Yeah, nobody’s head falls asleep on those things.  The “head” end isn’t conducive to anyone’s head laying on it, and when faced with the other end the whole “pillow” is too short to be useful.  Those Pillow Pet commercials could bring their enthusiasm down a notch, I say.

But last year, I gave in.  All three got Pillow Pets.  It was supposed to be the ace-in-the-hole gift, the Big Gift with Oomph.  They begged for these things.  They got them.  Their reaction?  “I wish this was a Dream Lite.”

Turns out, a week before Christmas last year began commercials for a Pillow Pet that lights up.  What the…..

So for the last twelve months I’ve listened to all three kids begging for a Dream Lite.  You know, it’s what they all have already except with lights.  Yet another stuffed animal to throw on top of the giant pile of stuffed animals that my kids couldn’t care less about.

Santa brought all three kids Dream Lites*.  oooh!  aaah!  It’s like a Pillow Pet, but it lights up!  I feel like I bought those damned things with blood money.  I hated it.  More stuffed animals.  More useless crap.  But maybe I just don’t understand.  Maybe a Dream Lite really WILL  change their world!  Make their day!  I want my kids to smile–who doesn’t want to make their kids smile–so let’s do this!  A Dream Lite!

One hundred dollars worth of Dream Lites.

The kids open the Dream Lites.  “Aww man!  I thought this was a Stuffie!”

Me:  Say what?  (still viscerally feeling the loss of the $100 bill spent to buy the Dream Lites.)

Kids:  We ALL wanted Stuffies!  Santa didn’t bring them!  We want Stuffies!  ::sob::sob::sob::

After some research, a Stuffie* is a Pillow Pet is a Dream Lite, but the Stuffie has a pocket or something.  Anyone else catching a pattern here?

I don’t know but I’m exhausted just recounting it all.  Suffice to say that my kids can stuff their Stuffies with all the stuff that their smart Grandma gave them instead of blowing her dough on other exactly-the-same-thing-but-different plush toys.  I’m outta here.


^No Pillow Pets, Dream Lites, or Stuffies were harmed in the writing of this blog post.


Cassandra can be found on Twitter @aclevergirl.  Learn more about her family’s unique challenges and why they have hope for a cure for muscular dystrophy at byrdsforacure.org.