Shall eat yonder, greener grass... thence barf forthwith.

Have a literal roomful of toys for the wee one.  Yet what does he yearn for?  The bold primary colors of the oversize Lego blocks?  The wee plastic turtle on wheels with a transparent shell wherein tiny plastic balls bounce around as it rolls?  Perhaps the brightly-colored plastic balls which come apart in halves and can be fit one within the other in the manner of Matryoshka dolls.

Nay, he yearns for none of these.

Instead, he yearns for things in the hands of nearby adults.  Bottles of carbonated beverage.  Books with easy-to-tear pages.  Smartphones.  CUPS OF HOT COFFEE.  It matters not.  You has: him wants.  Preferably something that could cause vomiting if drunk/eaten, scald if touched, leave a mark of some kind, inadvertently contact emergency services, stain, or require costly repairs/replacement when drooled upon and/or smashed.

Friends with children in university have intimated that this pattern continues almost indefinitely.