Over the weekend, against my Neanderthal husband’s protests, I snuck this Frozen wand into our cart at Wal-Mart. My 3-year-old son has probably watched Frozen once—and got about halfway through before he lost interest—but all the cool kids at preschool talk about it constantly, so he thinks he loves it.
He knew his dad didn’t want to buy him the girly wand, and he knew that if Mommy hadn’t snuck it into the cart, he wouldn’t have gotten it. I thought that would be enough reason to show a little gratitude.
When I handed him the wand at home, however, he immediately grabbed it and pushed the button for the song to start playing.
As the melodious strains of “Let It Go” came wafting through the miniature snow globe’s speaker, I watched my son wave the wand in a swooping motion through the air around me.
“I wish for a new mom!” he said with a final triumphant arcing wand wave around my face.
“Wait...what?” I asked, astonished.
“He said he wishes for a new mom!” his older brother supplied helpfully, laughing with glee.
I tried to act upset, I really did, but it was very difficult to do as that wand kept flying through the air around me, gaining more and more swishing speed as my 3-year-old son’s desire for a new mom grew evermore fervent. I couldn't help but giggle as I watched him push the button for the song over and over again, hoping that somehow that Frozen magic would cause a brand new mom to appear right before his eyes.
My husband looked at me, and I knew from the laughing twinkle in his eyes that he was up to no good. “He probably wants a mom who won’t buy him girl toys,” he muttered, smiling.