The first year after I was born my brother got an incredible present from Santa: big red fire truck with removable ladders and a bell. My Dad insisted on bringing it to my grandparents (an 8 hour drive in a tightly packed station wagon) so Christmas morning. I imagine his thrill, when he laid eyes on it, eventually followed by his horror that his little sister wouldn't stop touching it AND wanted to ride it.
But it is the way of the manifest world isn't it: I want your stuff starting from the earliest consciousness. Curiosity springs eternal from the time one tries to grasp one's own hands, and then a rattle, eventually a spoon fork, and sippy cup. working our way up to a cell phone and laptop or books and chocolate mousse. I know this to be true for me with 5 younger siblings who would not, or could not resist my stuff. Dolls, notbooks, art supplies, clothes: all of it fair game.
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