Jay is only two-years-old but already he’s missed out on a lot: No freshly painted nursery waiting for him when he was born (in fact, there was no nursery at all in our 1br apartment), no mobile above his crib, no swim lessons or music classes or yoga instruction, no trip to Sesame Place, no fun or joy or light in his life whatsoever.
And now, add to the list: No $200k playhouse with a dedicated Popsicle freezer in the backyard he doesn’t have. The New York Times ran a story last week about the increasing popularity among the well-to-do of high end club houses for kids. It featured a Texas oil exec and his Playboy pinup wife who splashed out for a two-story Cape Cod playhouse—built as a scale replica of the family’s McMansion—for their four-year-old daughter Sinclair.
It’s easy of course to ridicule such over the top consumption—and I imagine even the most well-equipped kiddie chalet still has a hard time competing with Mario Kart. (Unless of course Mario Kart is played inside the chalet, in which case, WOW.) At the same time, I’d be deceiving myself if I didn’t admit that my very first reaction to the story was: “Man, wouldn’t Jay love one of those.”