The Bike

A bit and a half ago, when we went to see Santa, Andy declared to Santa his desire for dinosaurs... and Joey had no idea what he wanted (and answering "What do you want for Christmas?" was a little too much to ask, anyway). Then he discovered what he wanted was a bike. A real two-wheeler, with training wheels, please. Yes, that's what he wants. A bike.

My baby is growing up.

But anyway, in order for Santa to bring said bike, Mommy had to go out and purchase said bike. Fortunately, Toys R Us is openuntil midnight this weekend. I'm not a big fan of Toys R Us. When I was young, it was great- a warehouse deal of toys that were cheap and simple, the haven of Star Wars figures. Now its an expensive place to get toys, and all they have are toys where the company I believe pays them to basically rent the space to display their merchandise- the higher fee you pay, the more prominent spot your toy gets. Variety? Gone. Everything marketed, splashed with TV characters or packaged more for Mom and Dad than for little Johnny or Janey. And service? what's that?

So I wasn't really surprised when I waited half an hour just to get someone to come help me with choosing the correct size for the bike. I've picked out a nice red one. There was a beautiful green Schwinn, but too pricey. He's probably going to need a new one next Christmas, anyway, so no point shelling out the big bucks just to get it green. Red is good for a first Christmas bike. A shiny, red bike. With training wheels.

So I pay for it, and pay for them to assemble it. See, that's the advantage of Toys R Us. Our Walmart don't assemble.

The cashier takes my name and number, and says someone will call when it's ready, but be sure to pick it up tomorrow or it goes off hold. (That would be today). OK, no problem.

Except that no-one called.

So I call and ask what is going on, if there is a hold up or a problem or something, and I get told that they don't take names and numbers unless there is a problem, and he doesn't see a bike with my name on it back there anywhere... and he finally got snippy with me and told me (in that snap-snap sort of way) that if I showed up with my receipt, he's find my bike. Click.

I don't like being hung up on.

So off to teh toy store I go, and present the receipt with a brief explanation of the snap-snap attitude problem. She makes a call on her walkie-talkie, and everything becomes, "yes, m'am."

Long story short: There is a very pretty red bicycle hiding in the Jeep. Don't tell Joey!