Irony

New York is thought of as a shopping city and after four and half years here, I can't figure out why. I don't like shopping here. I can't find anything. I ordered most of my Christmas presents online like everyone else.

Take Andrew's toys for example. I wondered what kids were suppose to play with. I would go to the toy stores near me, little mom and pop joints that pack lots of stuff into a little space (like most stores in New York), and I would not be able to find anything. Everything seemed too old for him. Complex building sets. Remote controled cars. Train sets. Cool in a few years, but until then?

Then, while visiting my parents in Vermont, I went to Walmart. Holy smokes. Now, most New Yorkers associate Walmart with all things bad, but not this New Yorker. There were aisles and aisles of toys that were PERFECT for Andrew. Who knew that Fischer Price made a whole line of Little People toy sets?

We have a Toys R Us nearby, but it is pretty ghetto. It's amazing how national chains morph once they cross city lines. The Target that was just built is on two floors, has an escalator for people and an escalator for your shopping cart (complete with a diagram of a baby with a line through it to encourage you to remove your child from the cart before pushing it onto the cart escalator). But, even there, the toy department was not geared towards the Andrews of New York. Clothes are another battle altogether.

So, here I am, showing a scrapbook page where I am using a new little something. They're called rub-ons. They are little sticker-like images that rub onto the paper. I love them because they tie together paper and pictures nicely. Anyway, they have been around for years. But not in New York. I found this pack while, again, visiting the commerce mecca of our nation, Vermont. If you have been to Vermont (especially the corner where my parents live) you'd understand the irony here. The town I went to high school in battled McDonalds for years about building a chain there. Townspeople were worried their children would get hit by cars, as they rode their bikes to McDonalds. I think there is something oddly wonderful about that. A little dramatic, but nice to see that the local diner's parking lot usually has more cars than the recently installed controvercial burger joint.

So, it was here, in rural Vermont, that I, a resident of the most populated city in our country, first went into a scrapbook shop. I made a wish list, gave it my mom, and received rub-ons, like these, for Christmas! Progress!

So, I am planning a trip to Vermont this Spring for the toddler spring/summer wardrobe (the outlets in New Hampshire are tax free!). Maybe I will stop in that little scrapbook store again and pick up something really new: like colored brads.