Dexter's absolute favourite toy is his 'beads on some wire attached to a piece of wood thing'. Granted, it doesn't trip off the tongue like, say, a memorably alliterative 'Thomas the Tank'. Nor does it have the flashing lights of a seedy seafront night club establisment. Perhaps most pleasingly, it absolutely doesn't have the gratingly tinny, pseudo xylophone, ear-worm inducing 'tunes' of many toys for young children.
I bought it from an NCT 'nearly new' sale for about three quid. This was months ago, and I obviously felt quite chuffed to have snaffled a bargain that has become a well-loved posession. This did become slightly galling though as on Dexter's first Christmas morning, despite a gargantuan haul of lovingly chosen, bought and gift-wrapped gifts, Dexter steadfastly played with the beads and nothing else.
In classic first-time mummy/I've read too much waffle on child-rearing (more on that at a later date), I have attempted to 'read into' his fixation with the object in question. I have come to the conclusion that Dexter is bound to become a genius scientist, heavily involved in some ground-breaking, life-changing research into DNA. Failing that, he will be perfectly content working on a production line that requires the constant repetition of a straightforward menial task.
Hand on heart, I can honestly say, I don't mind either way. I want my boy to be happy, polite, and capable of conversation. If he fancies a bit of jewellery-making on the side, well, that can only be a bonus.