I thought I was off the hook.
When I told my kids the new Furby was done staying at our house, they seemed to understand. “We’ll miss you a lot, Furby!!” my six-year-old exclaimed — but there were no cries, no tantrums. They asked if Furby could play one more song. They gave it a goodbye hug. Then, I happily stuck the talking puffball deep in the garage.
But a day later, my three-year-old made an uncharacteristic offhand remark: “I wish we had enough money to buy a Furby…” she said, her full-force puppy dog eyes burning into my soul.
But that’s only because Furby wants the Moon first.