5 Months: The Giraffe

The day after we brought August home, I made an outing to the high end maternity shop in search of a few over-priced staples. While there I overheard one patron say to another, in reference to a particular toy, "see that giraffe? You have to buy one for [insert child's name]. It'll be [his/her] absolute favorite toy. Kids go crazy for this giraffe".

I made a mental note of it and departed. When I chanced to be back there several weeks later I hunted down the giraffe and purchased it, because any toy that captivating must be in my child's collection.

It's actually pretty cool. It's a flexible, rubber giraffe who squeaks when you squeeze him. This is what it looks like:



August does like the giraffe just fine, but it doesn't hold for him the fascination I was expecting given the hype (which I had, of course, confirmed by checking anecdotes online). To him it's another toy. But not one of his top favorites, like his parrot, which has entertained him for months.



More recently, he loves the little orange monkey who clings by its tail and can be grabbed down off its perch.



And lately he's been digging this cool wooden puzzley thing which August's honorary Auntie Andrea brought for him all the way from Germany (thanks Andrea!).



But the giraffe rates a consistent "meh".

Weeks ago we told the story of the giraffe to our upstairs neighbors who have a little one of their own, one month younger than August. The other day, Mary ran into the mother-half of this couple who informed her that they had acquired the rubber giraffe and that it was a huge favorite with their girl.

What's up with our kid!? Is this an early indication that his preferences will be outside the mainstream? Is he somehow lagging behind the others?? Is this why he "doesn't get it"? We don't know what it means. We keep hoping he'll learn to love the giraffe.

Meanwhile, there's one in the house who is completely mesmerized by the giraffe.



The dog has been transfixed by this thing from the first squeak. He'll sit and stare at it, only restraining himself from grabbing it because he knows it's not for him. But that doesn't stop him from menacing it constantly, even if I repeatedly warn him away from it. "Damnit, Watson, leave that effing giraffe alone!"

He just can't resist it. It has to be put away when we leave the apartment or we know we'll return to a shredded (likely eaten!) giraffe.