When my son, Scott, was in first grade, he came home completely agitated one day. “Mom!” he pleaded urgently, “Can we get Pokemon cards? Everyone has them!” The following conversation ensued:
Me: “No, Scott, we don’t need Pokemon cards. You know we don’t watch the show. All they do is fight.”
Scott: “Austin has a Pokemon lunchbox!”
Me: “Scott, we are not getting Pokemon cards.”
He screwed up his face and stamped his little 6-year-old foot. End of discussion.