As a child, I grew up in a Washington postcard – an idyllic country town roughly the size of a peanut. Within this pastoral peanut, we had one equally tiny toy store. And though it had only the basics – marbles, puppets, and Playmobiles – I was hooked.
Have you ever noticed how toy stores have a certain magic to
them? This is because toy stores, like zoos, are places of childhood wonder: They hold an unending promise of possibility. Anywhere in this country, if you walk
into a toy store you will be overwhelmed with sensory stimuli – whirring robots,
spinning mobiles, and (if you’re lucky) marble tracks reaching to the ceiling. And when
you are young enough to still have being a cat as your life goal, there is no better place in the world than a toy store.
In my Pacific Northwest childhood, there was one toy store that ruled them all: FAO Schwarz. If you’ve never been, watch "The Polar Express." Going to Fao Shwarz is basically like meeting Santa and his elves.
No TV? Then imagine the best possible Christmas: mountains of toys, bright lights, joyful music, and armfuls of love. Now raise all of those warm fuzzies to the power of Disney, and you will land in the toy-filled forest that is FAO Schwarz. Every inch of this shiny, music-filled megastore is jam packed with priceless treasures. There is even a literal talking tree inside – Grandmother Willow style. This store is so big you feel no bigger than a toy. It’s childhood heaven – a world of endless possibilities.
As college students today, we are often too big, too old, or too poor to experience the same wonder of unending possibilities. Unlike Buddy the Elf, we’ve grown up. We are no longer pluripotent cells; we have developed, set life goals, and are working toward career paths. Yes, we are so lucky as to be in the scholastic buffet that is Rice University, where we can discover a new world of academic possibilities. But between overlapping midterms, unending term papers, and heaven forbid a social life, this collegiate dining experience can feel a lot less like heaven and a lot more like, well, hell.
This is why I am in love with Amazon Prime. While it may lack the twirling mobiles of our childhood stores, within Amazon's digital walls you can always find your childhood joy of discovery. You won't be judged for geeking out or be told to put on pants. Instead, you will be brought back to a childhood state of wonder: What will I find today? From power drinks to printer ink (and so much more in between), the shopping world is again your oyster.
