I have 3,000 toys in my home.
On any given day you can come to my home and feel as though you are experiencing what it would look like if someone ever blew up a Toys R' Us and dumped the remains in someone's home. Princess everything, trucks, balls, train tables, ball pits, zillions of books and puzzles, and too many freshly vaccinated stuffed animals.
Given this salute to materialism (despite my best efforts to avoid raising entitled children), one question remains:
Why must half my morning be spent referring the proper sharing of one 25 cent rubber ball between two normally loving siblings????
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