"Well you can definitely tell Christmas is coming," Woody said. He had his arm wrapped around Bo as they sat together on the living room sofa.

"Hmm, what gave it away? The decorations, the chill in the air…"

"The toy commercials. Who runs an ad for Baby Furbies during The People's Court?"

Bo leaned in closer. "They are all over the place."

"Speak of the devil, here's one now." The two toys watched as an advertisement for a baby doll began to play.

A woman with a sickly sweet voice began to sing as two girls on screen played with the product. "Baby Oh-Oh! Your diaper's a mess! Baby Oh-Oh…"

"Oh no, not one of these."

"Well, I think she's cute."

"Yeah, which is cuter?" Woody snarked. "The cold dead eyes or the pouty fish lips?"

Bo elbowed where his ribs would be. "You are awful, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," Woody rubbed his side. "Besides, that's not the worst part. You see enough baby dolls, you figure out pretty quick which one's…"

One of the girls on screen pulled off the doll's diaper. It had a large stain on it. "She really wets her diaper!"

"Ugh! I just don't get it!" Woody made a disgusted face. "Who keeps making these dolls? Why would any kid want to play with that?"

Bo smiled empathetically. "You know that role play is important for a child's development."

"Well yeah, that's our whole job, but do we really need to pretend that part too?"

"It could always be worse."

"Oh-Oh! Baby Oh-Oh has diaper rash!"

Both toys jumped at the sight. "Oh ew! Ew ew ew!"

Bo shut her eyes and turned away from the screen. "All right, I admit I don't know why a toy manufacturer would give a doll diaper rash. I thought diaper rash was a bad thing."

"How you even explain that to other toys?" Woody began to mimic an imaginary conversation. "'What do you do? I move three inches if you wind me up. What do you do? I soil myself and break into hives on my butt!'" He sat back.

"It's not the doll's fault."

"Please don't tell me that Molly put that on her Christmas list."

"No…" Bo said slowly. "Actually, Molly seems to have skipped the baby doll stage all together."

"But she's only five."

"She has Barbie, and me, but she's not really so much a 'doll' kid as much as a 'wear-Mommy's-heels-for-an-hour' kid."

Woody furrowed his brow. "Does that bother you? I mean, that she's not into dolls."

"Every child is different, Woody. I don't begrudge Molly because she likes dress up more than toys. That's just who she is."

Woody looked like he wanted to say something else but Bo was looking at the television again. "Here comes another one."

"INTRODUCING PALOTRON! YOUR NEW TALKING ROBOPAL!"

"Aw jeez," Woody grumbled. "I must've seen this one at least five times during Saturday morning cartoons with Andy."

"I take it that it's a hot ticket item for this season?"

"The hot ticket item by the way they're pushing it."

"PALOTRON! HE REALLY KNOWS YOUR NAME!"

A young towheaded child sat next to the silver, blinking robot toy. "Hi, Palotron. My name is Mikey."

The robot's smiling mouth flashed bright red as it spoke. "Hello…Mikey."

"SO INTERACTIVE! WITH FACIAL AND VOICE RECOGNITION TECHNOLOGY PALOTRON KNOWS OVER FIVE HUNDRED WORDS IN ENGLISH AND SPANISH! HE SINGS, HE DANCES, HE TELLS JOKES…"

"After he files your tax return and performs acupuncture on your spine," said Woody.

"You sound bitter."

"I am not bitter. It's just that…well, look at it! It's too much!"

"Too much?" Bo echoed.

"Yeah. So Palotron is so advanced he can change the oil in your car and decode ancient hieroglyphics…"

"The commercial did not say that."

Woody continued, "What does the kid get to do exactly? When does he use his imagination? Is this what it's come to? The toy does everything and the kid just sits there?"

"Hmm," Bo looked thoughtful. "I guess Palotron does make Buzz look like a Duncan Yo-Yo."

"Exactly," Woody folded his arms.

"Does it really matter?"

The Cowboy looked at her in surprise. "What?"

"Does it really matter?" she repeated and scooted closer to him. "A toy's job is to make a child happy."

"I know…"

"So as long as Palotron does that, then does it really matter how advanced he is?" she gestured to the little boy on screen who was hugging Palotron. "It doesn't matter if a toy's powered by a double A-battery or a Flux Capacitor so long they're being loved by someone, right?"

Woody sighed. He shook his head and smiled affectionately. "How'd you get so smart, Bo?" As he put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to his chest, he paused. "Did you say Flux Capacitor?"

"Maybe."

Woody began to laugh.

"So," Bo looked up at him with a smile. "What'd Andy put on his Christmas list this year?"

"An electric guitar."

"Do you think Mom will buy him one?"

"He has a better chance of getting a Baby Oh-Oh."