Less than a year ago, I was writing about the Labubu craze. You couldn’t scroll social media without seeing someone desperately trying to get one, proudly showing off their latest find, or paying outrageous prices to resellers. It seemed impossible to imagine another toy taking its place. Yet here we are.
Now the hottest collectible isn’t an expensive designer figurine; it’s a $5 squishy toy.
Welcome to the world of NeeDohs and Squeezies, where kids (and plenty of adults) are obsessed with finding the newest colors, textures, and limited edition releases. My girls are among the biggest fans. Every new release is on their radar before I even know it exists. They watch videos, compare collections with friends, and create cover stars talking about their latest hauls.
I’ll admit there is definitely something oddly satisfying about squeezing a squishy object after a stressful day. They are colorful, soft, and surprisingly calming. Marketed as stress relief toys, they offer a simple sensory break in a world dominated by screens. They are sold as toys, but plenty of adults keep one on their desk to ease anxiety or simply keep their hands busy. If a $5 squishy helps someone relax for a few minutes, that’s probably the healthiest part of this entire craze.
Of course, somewhere along the way, a harmless toy became something much bigger.
People wait in line for hours whenever stores announce a new release on Instagram or through their apps. Shelves are emptied within minutes, forcing some retailers to keep NeeDohs behind customer service counters. Facebook groups are dedicated to tracking shipments and videos of customers arguing over squishy toys have become surprisingly common.
The saddest part isn’t the kids, it’s the adults
Parents are bringing multiple children along with them at 6 am to a store that doesn’t open till 8 am just so they can buy more than the one-per-person limit. Others clear entire shelves knowing they can flip a $5 toy online for ten or twenty times the price before the day is over.
That means the child standing behind them in line, the one who just wanted an Ice Cream NeeDoh, walks away empty-handed. That is the part I truly can’t understand.
Who has the time to spend half a day waiting in line just to resell squishy toys? More importantly, who looks at an excited eight-year-old behind them and still decides to buy the last one simply because it will make them a profit?
The real losers are the kids.
Instead of paying five dollars for a toy, parents are left searching resale sites where the same NeeDoh is listed for $50, $75, or even $100. Somewhere along the way, childhood excitement became someone else’s business opportunity. It sounds ridiculous, yet people keep paying because no one wants their child to miss the latest trend.
We have seen this before in recent years: Beanie Babies, Hatchimals, Stanley cups, Labubus, Pokemon. Every craze feels like it will last forever until suddenly it doesn’t. Then the next must-have item arrives, and everyone moves on almost overnight.
Meanwhile, the Cantor house has accumulated tiny NeeDohs, giant squeezys, glow-in-the-dark ones, textured ones, scented ones, and more fruit ones than I have fruit in the refrigerator.
Do we need this many? Absolutely not. Unfortunately, that is how collecting works. One becomes five, becomes twenty, and before long you have dedicated an entire bedroom corner to squishy toys.
One quick parent PSA: keep NeeDohs out of hot cars. Heat can cause them to burst, creating a gooey mess and causing major burns. And if one tears open, toss it immediately. The filling isn’t meant to be ingested or come into contact with eyes or broken skin.
Despite all that, I can’t say I’m against the craze.
Watching my daughters light up when they find a new one is genuinely fun. They trade with friends, compare favorites, open squishy stores in our dining room, and get excited over something refreshingly simple. In a world filled with expensive electronics and endless apps, it is nice that a five-dollar toy can still create so much joy.
In my opinion, the problem isn’t the toy. It is what we adults do to it. When resellers clear shelves and inflate prices, childhood excitement becomes another business opportunity. Parents are left wondering whether a toy is worth paying twenty times its retail price; it never is.
Labubus had their moment, and now NeeDohs are having theirs. The toys will change, but the cycle never does. That is okay as long as we remember that the real value isn’t in owning the latest craze. It is in the smiles, the laughter, and every once in a while, taking a moment to squeeze the stress out of life.
