I am preparing for my daughter’s 8th birthday party and one last item I need to throw together is some sort of loot bag.
We call it a loot bag but it’s usually a far cry from loot. A bag of candy and Dollar Store crap (I can call it crap because I’m their number one supporter. We’ll discuss their questionable choice to sell canned tuna in another post) and a colossal waste of money for the host parents.
Sadly, the loot bag is often the motivating factor to get my children to a birthday party. They can’t WAIT to collect the pieces of a plastic ring, already broken into threes before they ever retrieve it from the paper bag, their pack of gum, set of two barrettes that have been clearly cut from a much larger package of say twelve or sixteen barrettes and one or two tattoos; one requiring water to work, one that only works on dry skin, when mixed together, one big mess of tears.
My two oldest daughters have both had to miss a birthday party due to illness. They didn’t think about the gift we had purchased for the child celebrating or to send along best birthday wishes, they were most upset about not being there, in person to collect their loot bag. I’ve even had to make the drive of shame over to the party with my child’s gift and hinted around at how much faster my child would recover from the flu if only she had a loot bag from her friend’s party. My work as the town loser is never done.
I have become frustrated with these bags of junk, the hyperactive child I then have the displeasure of chauffeuring home after they’ve eaten bulk candy all afternoon and taken home a bag full of it to tease their siblings with for the car ride.
A few years ago, a friend suggested buying ONE item for each child to be handed out at the end of the party. It’s simple, everyone gets one thing, if you can keep on theme you’ve nailed some bonus points and parents won’t be upset because their child’s Dollarama bracelet caught on fire due to a late recall on some of the beads having been made from gun powder.
Simple, now what to buy?
One year, Hanna had a magician at her party so each child got a bag of magic tricks.
Last year, Ellie’s party was at a bird sanctuary so everyone got a bird puppet.
This year, I’m completely stumped.
I visited several stores looking for inspiration and almost bought something at the fourth store. I had even loaded the cart with twelve, small-sized, Fur-Real pets but paused when I noticed the box suggested for ages 4+. Granted eight is higher than four, it’s just that it’s a lot higher. Would this toy in lieu of a loot bag single-handedly be responsible for children snickering and calling my daughter a four year old, Fur-Real girl for years to come? I also noticed my sidekick (the baby) was enamoured by these little toys and she’s only twenty-one months old. Is she gifted or is this a sign from the Fur-Real factory to move onto something more age appropriate?
Now I’m stuck. The party is on Saturday and I can’t bring myself to do what I know in my heart my daughter would want. Ardene.
I found Ardene a couple of weeks ago while looking for something for Hanna’s birthday and realized I had stumbled upon the mother ship of tacky jewellery, scarves, satchels, fake make-up. Anything and everything an eight year old girl would want–the exact opposite of an adorable Fur-Real pet. In fact, there’s nothing furry or real about any of it. Just rack upon rack of bandanas and headbands or as Hanna would say, heaven.
What will the other parents think of me if I hand out gooey make-up, fake earrings and rather sophisticated, albeit cheap and fake, gaudy accessories? “Is she fur-real?”
Someone suggested Hula hoops. I like this idea. Something that speaks to being active, a fun activity for young girls so off I went. The store I visited had four left in their “seasonal” scrap bin. Can I give each girl 1/3 of a Hula hoop and a mixed bag of wet/dry tattoos?
I did feel better after receiving an email recently about someone giving live goldfish at the end of a party? WHAT? This has bad idea bubbles written all over it.
How do you know the family you are giving the fish to doesn’t have fourteen cats?
How do you know they are not en route to the airport to fly to Florida for the week and now they have to stop to beg someone to fish-sit or leave it to die (and stink up their vehicle) in the airport parking lot for a week?
Did you consider you’ve just given a gift that is now going to require a great deal of someone’s time, money for supplies; bowl, food and net for slinging when it dies in two days and a premature, heart wrenching discussion entitled “you can’t have life without death” to a bunch of six year olds?
Seriously, stick to the Dollar Store, just avoid the canned tuna.
