gifts for wildly creative ten-year-old goofballs

For medievalists/miniaturists: a decorate-your-own castle blank, complete with inspiration, craft glue, and an assortment of craft paints and popsicle sticks (old egg cartons make especially good masonry). Add a working catapult kit for siege warfare re-enactments.

For painters: Akashiya watercolor brushes and a big ol' New SoHo SKETCH pad.

For creative writers: A fuzzy one-eyed creature journal, complete with padlock, for monstrously good drafts.

For sculptors: Wikki Stix (a magical melding of yarn and wax) to doodle in three dimensions.

For activists: The Pushcart War by Jean Merrill, which reveals (hilariously and metafictionally) words to live by —"don't be a truck"—and what it really takes to change the world.

For collectors: An earmarked ten-spot tucked inside a coin purse for treasure-seeking expeditions, jaunts to the candy shop, or bookstore adventures.

For recipe tinkerers: Extremely good cocoa, fluffy marshmallows, a whole can of real whipped cream, and Dutch chocolate sprinkles, for concocting the ultimate hot chocolate.

For composers: A pocket-sized Stylophone synthesizer for sonic noodling.

For the late-night button-pusher: A Snoopy Timex, complete with stopwatch and backlight.

For cuddlers: Fuzzy slippers with kitten ears in pink or brown.

For the hoarder of Jellycats: A Raindrop.

For all: Kiosk's "noisemaker from hell", because the holidays come but once a year (and because, despite its fearsome appearance, it only makes a subdued squeak, haha).

gifts for knowledge-hungry and nonsense-loving nine-year-olds

 

A print subscription to The Week Junior, for something interesting to read while they scarf down breakfast.

A programmable Xtron Pro, so that part of screen time is learning how the things that appear on screens come to be.

A kit to make a cake that looks like a strictly regulated and deeply beloved foodstuff.

Assorted candy eyeballs, to give boring foods personality.

Several soft-back volumes from Fantagraphics' brilliantly designed The Complete Peanuts and a nifty Jotblock to encourage comic strip doodles.

The Snakes of Wrath, a tile game that rewards the sneaky and the clever.

Woset Soil, a soft paper clay that can be tinted with paint to make squishable shapes.

A teensy, tiny bar of pure gold that is both treasure and a never-ending math problem, given fluctuating market values.

A lightbulb that makes any room a rainbow.

A fluffy cotton bathrobe, because the nine-year-old I live with is dedicated to his nightly post-bath robe relaxation moment.

A funny bookmark from Humdrum Paper, plus a thick book or three to stash it in.

A kit by Kraul to make a basket cable car, to ferry snacks in and out of cardboard forts. (The Make.Do cardboard tool kit has been a HIT in our house for years now.)

Huggable toilet paper, because it is the silliest thing, and they still sleep with stuffies. 

gifts for exuberantly eccentric eight-year-olds

 

Assorted Ototo Spaghetti Monster tools, so they can learn to make their own buttered noodles.

An avocado to stuff with surprises, like a couple of Maria Tallchief golden dollars or a fifty-pence coin from Narnia.

A lockable Gerstner mini chest, for assorted secret and precious treasures.

A clear lock that comes with picks to challenge nimble child fingers and scheming young brains.

Zach Weinersmith's Bea Wolf, an epic tale of the triumph of youth (and one of the most absolutely delightful books we read in 2023).

The Turning Tumble, a marble run that is actually a computer, to demystify magical screens.

Polymer clay, to make the tiny accoutrements desired for last year's woodland kingdom, which is sprawling across the top of two bookcases these days.

A Calcifer mug to keep minty-honey tea hot (or Totoro or Jiji). 

An Otamatone, which is a Japanese toy synthesizer that looks like the happy offspring of an eighth note and a salamander, so that they can perform retro hits.

Runamok syrup infused with edible mica, to make waffles glitter.

A pack of pencils by Duncan Shotten that sharpen into rainbows and a book that explains what to draw and how to draw it.

Cozy kicks that will always be easy to spot in the boots-off pile.

A leafy green they may actually be willing to embrace.

*Editor's note: All eight-year-olds I have met are, in fact, exuberantly eccentric! It is a great age.

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One more indulgence: These funny gift guides are an annual delight to compile for all of you anonymous folks out there. I don't make any money from them—no affiliate links, no placements, nada! I'm an online renegade!—but if they have brought you joy or amusement, please consider making a donation to Doctors Without Borders. I'm donating what I can, too, and holding the people of Palestine, Ukraine, and Sudan in my heart. Thank you.

gifts for sweet and salty seven-year-old storytellers

A kite to color, then fly.

A kid-sized headlamp, to encourage under-the-covers reading, and a book worth staying up late to read.

Mysterious riches via a grab-bag of 25 coins from around the world.

Yoto's clever mini audiobook player, with Kate Winslet's cracking Matilda, Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci doing Steig, forever friends Frog and Toad, plus cards to record their own stories.

A real fountain pen for satisfyingly messy penmanship practice.

MoonShine Suds handmade rainbow crystal soap, to get the ink from the fountain pen off. 

A kalimba for composing pretty tunes whenever inspiration strikes.

Areaware Moon chalk, for making interesting lines.

A subscription to Mishou, an arty magazine for kids and their grown-ups to enjoy together.

A snake that needs a hug, for the ever-expanding Jellycat collection.

Marbles for holding the whole the solar system in your hand.

A set of blocks for building a woodland kingdom.