I dread taking my kids to Walmart. There’s always that one toy, of all the toys, that catches their eye. This car is so cool. Their best friend has this doll. They’ve always loved superheros. Or it’s a chocolate bar, a drink, a balloon, a craft. They don’t have to ask anything, it’s spoken with their eyes, written on their glowing faces. “Maybe for your birthday,” is the typical response. At this point, I’m pretty sure my daughter thinks she’s getting an entire shelf in October. Then we pass by the next aisle.