Christmas gifts for Kids

The glowing peg board, updated with a brighter light and the same pegs. Under ten dollars and in every stocking.

Pick a card, pass the rest, build the best sushi plate. Fifteen minutes, twelve dollars, in a tin that fits a pocket.

A hundred wooden blocks in four colors with a box to put them back in. The first building toy, at fourteen dollars.

Two real walkie talkies that reach across a campground. The gift siblings use for a year of spying on each other.

The card game for kids and adults where you try not to draw the exploding kitten. Fifteen minutes, endless rematches.

500 interlocking plastic discs in a jar. The building toy that costs twenty dollars and gets built with for years.

A thousand pieces of Disney and Pixar characters on a table for a week. The recovery gift that fills quiet evenings.

140 crayons, markers and pencils in a case that closes. The art supply gift that goes in the car.

Two teams, one-word clues, twenty-five words on the table. The party game that works with grandparents and gamers at once.

Sand that sticks to itself and not to the floor, in a box with molds and tools. The quiet-afternoon toy.

The 16 inch Squishmallow, the size that works as a pillow. Austin the Avocado is the one that is never out of stock.

The spinning-gear drawing set, back in the original precision gears. The craft gift that calms a kid down.

A book of ten Rube Goldberg machines with the 33 LEGO pieces to build them. The LEGO gift for a kid who has every set.

The family version of the famous card game, with fart jokes instead of the adult ones. The game a ten-year-old begs to play again.

Grow six real crystals in a week, two that glow in the dark. The science kit that works the first time.

The original folding scooter, still made the same way. Aluminum, rear brake, folds to fit a trunk.

A wooden pounding bench where the balls drop onto a xylophone. The one-year-old's gift that makes an actual tune.

Real circuits that snap together like buttons, with a hundred projects that light, buzz and spin. The STEM kit that works.

790 LEGO bricks in 33 colors with no instructions to lose. The box that starts a kid building their own things.

Ticket to Ride with shorter routes and a bigger map for little hands. The first real board game a six-year-old wins.

Catan for six-year-olds, with pirates and simple trades. The board game that gets a kid ready for the real one.

Build train routes across America, block your family, win by one point. The board game that starts people on board games.

The first six Dog Man books in a box. The gift that turns a kid who will not read into a kid who reads under the covers.

The Little People parking garage with a ramp, an elevator, lights and songs. The toddler playset that gets years of use.

The clog that came back and never left. Teenagers want them in a color, nurses want them in black, everyone wears them.

The game every Switch household plays together. Four players on one couch, still the best party game Nintendo makes.

Rough stones go in, a week of rumbling, polished gems come out. The science gift that works and that kids remember.

Turns the iPad into a game that watches real tiles on the table. Spelling, math and drawing, hands on, ages six to ten.

The Falcon at a size that fits a desk and a budget. 921 pieces, display stand, the ship every Star Wars kid wants.

Osmo for preschoolers: letters, shapes and dress-up with real pieces the iPad watches. Hands on the table, not on the screen.

Snap a phone into it and it becomes a handheld console. Game Pass, PlayStation remote play, Steam, all on the train.

A soft cube that plays stories when a child sets a figurine on top. Screen-free audio for ages three and up, controlled by the kid.

The big Play-Doh set: a truck that makes cones and sundaes with real sounds and 27 accessories. The one that stops a party.

A real kids' video camera with a green screen, a flip-out selfie screen and a tripod. For the kid who wants to make videos, without a phone.

Minecraft in LEGO with no fixed build: 605 pieces, figures and mobs, meant to be rebuilt like the game.

Point, shoot, a credit-card photo slides out. The camera at every party and the gift teens and adults both keep.

The Heeler house at 17 inches with lights, sounds and a dance floor. The Bluey gift for the kid who watches it every day.

A crystal ball that mists, lights up and reveals a plush creature inside. The toy with the big reveal on Christmas morning.

The magnetic tiles that build castles, garages and whole cities on the floor. The toy that lasts from three to ten.

The loud, waterproof speaker every teenager wants. Twelve hours, fits a cup holder, survives the pool.

The Dreamhouse: three stories, a slide into the pool, an elevator for the pet and 75 pieces. The big box of Christmas morning.

The new Switch. Bigger screen, plays the old games, and the one box under the tree that ends the discussion.