Gift Ideas For Andy!

With the holidays right around the corner, I've decided to put together a gift guide if you're so inclined to buy Andy a present this Christmas. Why should you have to wander aimlessly around the Dollar General trying to find little Man-drew the perfect gift without some sort of direction?

Your discarded junk mail. Planning on throwing that flyer from Bed, Bath, and Beyond in the trash? Well, stop right there- that piece of paper is baby gift gold. A piece of mail is very entertaining to Andy, and he's found a dozen uses for a single sheet of advertisement. He can look at it, rip it, crumple it, put it in his mouth, and hand it to me... and then wait for me to hand it back. We spend entire afternoons sometimes just handling the mail.

A balloon. Andy fell in love with balloons sometime around his first birthday, and that love has blossomed into a sort of psychotic obsession. Andy sees a balloon as a trusted, weeklong companion, one that he can drag around the house, babble to incoherently, and- truly this is the most adorable thing- bombard with hugs and kisses. If you get Andy a balloon, he will insist on the balloon floating next to his high chair while he dines and above him while I change his diaper. Sometimes, Andy will just lay on the ground, quietly staring up at his friend the balloon, completely content in the simple, helium-filled pleasures of everyday moments.

A banana. This perishable gift is one that Andy will treasure fully until the very last bite of actual banana and the first five or so bites of peel. Andy wakes up asking for bananas, goes to sleep wondering where the bananas are, and spends most of his waking hours wandering around in a state of potassium-ized hope mumbling, "'Nana? 'Nana?" Andy will give you an open-mouthed kiss in exchange for one banana.

A remote control that remotely controls something. We've tried to fool our smart young lad with remote controls that don't do anything and- even more insulting to his intelligence- pretend remote controls covered with stickers of Sesame Street characters. He's not interested. He only wants to use a remote that works, and, believe me, he can tell the difference. So, perhaps a good gift idea would be a functional remote control to, and I'm just spitballing here, a new 60 inch television.

Along these same lines, Andy would also like a cell phone that actually makes call. He throws our old, non-functional cell phones back in our faces.

A cup of water. Andy can enjoy a cup of water in ways you wouldn't believe. Firstly, he really enjoys drinking out of real cups, moreso than he enjoys drinking out of his sippy cups. There's something just terribly quenching about a barage of water flooding your mouth. Secondly, he likes to walk around carrying the water. I think he enjoys the inherent element of danger- the fact that he could spill the water at any second. Thirdly, he likes to put the cup on the floor, bend over it, reach inside it, and just splash his little fist around. It's like a swimming pool for his hand! Fourthly, just when he's about done enjoying his cup, he'll spill out the water and then immediately begin lapping it up like a dog. Which brings me to my next gift idea.

A dog. If you get him a dog, I will make damn sure that you never see Andy again. So don't f-ing buy him a dog.

Bathroom items. Oh, man. If you're shopping the bathroom department at Wal-mart, you're in Andy gift-giving central. It's impossible to go wrong with practically anything in the bathroom aisles. Toilet paper, for instance, is excellent for unspooling. And Andy really could use his own personal toilet brush and toilet plunger, as oftentimes I'll find him sitting in the loft gently carressing our (used) toilet brush and (also used) toilet plunger. A little gross, yes, but at least Andy has found something that makes him happy, which is more than most of us can say. Sometimes Andy will fetch two toilet plungers and walk around the house using the plungers in a cross-country skiing sort of fashion. Andy also likes combs and Q-tips, washcloths and tooth brushes. And, his new favorite thing is to hand me the lotion bottle and hold out his hands. I'll squirt a little lotion onto his palm, making some comment about how dreadfully dry his skin is, and he'll rub his two hands together in satisfaction, really working that lotion in. Then- he'll hold his hands out for more. By the time Andy's done receiving all the lotion he wants, his two hands are incredibly well-lubricated, to the point where if he balanced himself on his palms, he could slide his way all the way down the street. And back.

Baking sheets. Andy has graduated from Tupperware (that's so last summer) to aluminum baking sheets. He relishes the awful noises that they make when he smacks them mightily against the floor. He also likes to stand on them and do an amateurish tap dance routine. In addition, he likes to see if they will fit in the toilet (thankfully, they don't).

Boxes. It's true- a box to a child is like a foosball table to an adult; it's limitless fun. Boxes have two uses: putting other things in them, such as teddy bears, and putting yourself in them. Andy prefers the latter, and he likes to sit in all sorts of medium sized boxes, his knees pressed up to his chin, and just relax in the uncomfortable enclosure. Bonus: if, while Andy's in his box, you manage to pick him and the box up and stick both into another, larger box, you get to delight in knowing that you just blew his mind.

A CD of latin music. One day, I accidentally put on the Comcast latin music station, and Andy began dancing like he'd never danced before. I swear he was doing the salsa. So, forget "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" and "Old McDonald;" Andy just wants to feel the heat.

A trash bag of trash. Whoa, whoa, whoa. That trash bag of trash is valuable stuff. Let Andy dig around in it, and you just bought his parents about three hours of free time. I just ask that you sort your trash beforehand and remove anything that Andy could use to choke on, get poisoned by, or wipe out your bank account with a single call.

Andy looks forward to receiving your gift. However, if money's tight this year (or you're out of trash, junk mail, and water), don't worry too much about it. Andy's not really expecting too much this Christmas and will be happy just to be able to see you, sit on your lap, and give your hair a good, merry yank.