In the 1960s, Abraham Maslow revolutionized psychology by positing a hierarchy of needs. Only when the all the needs of one level were covered would a person start to worry about needs on the next level. So we have, at the bottom, Physiological Needs (food, water, air). Next we have Safety Needs. Then Love, Affection, and Belongingness needs. Then Esteem needs. Then, finally, Self-actualizing needs.
He forgot an even more fundamental layer, one that overrides the need for esteem, for belonging, for safety, or even for food and water.
Child Giftgiving needs.
I do in fact believe that this is the most fundamental instinct in humanity. Otherwise sane people will forget everything else when it comes to buying toys for a little kid.
As we grow, we do sublimate or transfer or learn to cope with this psychological drive. Teens buy music. Women buy shoes. Men buy cars. Dave buys comic books.
But give us the Real Thing, a chance to fulfill the Real Need, scratch the Real Itch, and all that goes out the window in an orgy of credit card maxxing. The monkey not only sits on our back, he grabs things off the shelves for us. Addict, meet crack. Crack, meet addict. I hope you two will be very happy together.
So we’re off to Orlando next week. Margie says, quite logically, “We should pick up something new for Katherine, to keep her occupied and happy on the plane, and in the hotel.”
“Great idea, dear.”
“There’s a toy store near your office, isn’t there?”
I should have recognized my inability to remember this as a sort of self-protective hysterical amnesia. “There is?”
“Over by Le Peep.”
“Ah. Okay, I can go over there at lunch.”
“Sure,” said Marlow. “I can just hop up the Congo and find Mr. Kurtz at lunch.”
To my credit, it was only when I opened the door to the toy store that I began to do my Night of the Living Dead imitation. “Toys … toys … toys …” I moaned, staggering zombie-like up and down the aisles.
Last thing I remember I was running for the door,
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before,
“Relax,” said the sales clerk, “Will that be cash or charge?
You can check out anytime you like, but we don’t have bags that large.”
Mercifully, the van is in the shop today. Thus, I was limited in the quantity of toys, books, puzzles, and other wonderful things for my PRECIOUS KITTEN by the weight I could carry from there back to my office.
It’s all Margie’s fault. She should have known better.
Or maybe, God forbid, Maslow was right. It’s not everyone else. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s a father/daughter thing.
In which case, we are in a lot of trouble when she gets old enough to drive.
Katherine’s finger, Katherine’s Daddy. Katherine’s Daddy, Katherine’s finger. I hope you two will be very happy wrapped around each other.