When my son was 4 years old, he loved all things “construction” and was in his glory when he received a yellow plastic dump truck for his birthday. Jumping up and down excitedly, he begged me to take him to the park right away. At the sandbox, his eyes sparkled with delight as he made “vroom vroom” and “beep beep” noises, filling and emptying his truck with sand. He was in a state of utter bliss and could have played with his truck for hours. But, all of a sudden, he glimpsed something behind me and his face clouded over. I turned to see another boy arriving at the park. He was holding a dump truck: it was big, red, and had flashing lights and sounds. The glee my son had experienced only moments ago was replaced by disappointment, as he looked at his smaller, more “basic” truck. Pretty soon, …