Today Wyatt spent six and half minutes playing with an empty box. I sat staring at the minutes ticking away on my cell phone, lifting my eyes occasionally to catch him sticking his head in the box, attempting—and failing—to climb into the box, finally turning the box over and banging it again and again like a conga. Six and half minutes is an incredibly long time for a 14-month old, especially one who lately seems to have the attention span of a goldfish. And as I watched my kid squeal with joy while smacking the cardboard with his tiny palms, I wondered why adult humans are driven to buy their offspring truckloads of shiny, flashy plastic toys when they are so obviously satisfied with a more simple alternative.
W certainly likes it simple. Though his toys include a singing, dancing plastic monkey that spits six plastic balls out of its plastic monkey mouth there are few amusements that can pull him away from exploring an empty box or his other favorite activity—dropping spice containers (he’s partial to dried oregano and ground nutmeg) into a Tupperware container. But push a few wooden, multi-colored, donut-shaped rings in front of him and he’ll be hit with a steely focus as he works to slide them onto a wooden stick. And roll a red, green or blue wooden ball toward him and he’ll race to place them in their circular slots on a thick wooden box. Try as he may, W cannot resist the clean lines, the clear colors and the age appropriate challenge of his Plan Toys. And I can’t resist the smooth rubberwood (sourced from rubber trees that no longer produce latex) and the non-toxic dyes and glue. It’s become clear that I’m fairly obsessed with Plan Toys. They can be safely licked and chewed—W must taste each toy thoroughly before he can play with it—are an ideal weight and texture, fit perfectly into little hands and look sharp when set on a shelf. Who needs a singing monkey?
