We'll do almost anything for a dollar -- or to save one. Like recently, our relentless pursuit for bargains galore brought us to this weekly commercialism commotion sprawled across the parking lot of the Phoenix Greyhound Park for -- among other things -- toiletries and socks offered at cut-rate prices. The little one has also joined us, and his attention is quickly riveted to blue tarps laden with bootleg toys.

There are knockoffs of all shapes and sizes: classic Transformers gestalts, unusually colored Power Ranger Megazords, Gundam Wing robots, and Robotech Valkyrie jets, ready to be drafted for a living-room war against GI Joe and the Rebel Alliance. Gentle hands are required, as some of the Chinese imports are made from such shoddy plastic that they'd shatter if you looked at them incorrectly. And someone should have considered running a spell-checker before exporting these goods, as multi-packs of "Spader-Man" and "Dragoon Ball Z" action figures (complete with bastardized graphics) look a little off.

We give the young'un $20 to buy the "Power Player Super Joystick," which promises thousands of classic NES games built into a Nintendo 64 control pad and wicked-looking Sig Sauer-esque light gun to boot. It's a sturdier substitute to toys that could potentially transform from robot to implement of impalement in the blink of an eye.

On the way to the parking lot, our now-joyful charge sings "Spader-Man, Spader-Man, no one fixes pets like a spader can."

Curious kids can go to town at the Arizona Museum for Youth, where ArtVille -- "Arizona's newest planned community" -- was founded this spring. Built on a "town philosophy of artistic exploration," the permanent exhibition is among the few spaces in the U.S. aiming to introduce babies and toddlers to fine art. "Art" serves as mayor of the 2,500-square-foot "hotspot for tots," where the median age is 2.5 years -- and where points of civic pride include a kiddy cafe, changing art displays, weekly activities and seasonal celebrations. Kids 5 and younger can take classes at the art studio, catch puppet shows at the performing arts center, explore the cushy Tot Town Square crawl space, and get back to nature at the tempera lake and fishing pier in Art's Park.

Grown-ups, however, have to watch their steps: Adults are required, by law, to be accompanied by a child while inside the town limits.

This little shop -- which also features a design center -- is a treasure trove for the new mom, particularly if someone else is buying. We fell in love with a feather boa-ed pig and a perfect pink ballet costume, and the selection for boys is just as precious. In case anyone is wondering, our personal favorite is the tiny red-and-pink bowling shirt, with Princess embroidered on the chest.

If you're still buying brand-new clothes for your kid, you've gotta be a brand-new parent. Early in the game, we learned that it's pointless to dress up little Sophie in that $75 Baby Lulu dress with matching hat and diaper cover. Five minutes later, the dress is drenched -- either from the top of Sophie or the bottom. But we still love Baby Lulu and all the other fabulous baby clothes taunting us from department store racks -- so when we're jonesing for a junior designer fix, we head to Small Change. This used baby/kids' clothing store is strategically located in the heart of Scottsdale, right near all those moms silly (and wealthy) enough to buy retail. For just a few bucks, we can snatch up a nifty, barely worn outfit (the buyers at Small Change are very picky, we learned when we tried to sell them Sophie's soiled castoffs) and have some money left over for the toy and video section. Small Change also has a nice selection of maternity clothing and big-ticket baby items like strollers and cribs.

Teach those babies how to shop early!

Some people have nightmares that they're back in school, naked, about to fail a test. We have nightmares that we're out to dinner with our kids. Let's face it: Fine dining isn't big among the toddler set. And so when we do venture out, we bring along a suitcase-size bag stuffed with art supplies and toys. Usually, that engages our youngster until the menus arrive. The crayons most restaurants offer are under the table by the time the chairs are pushed in. That's why we were delighted when the hostess at P.F. Chang's handed us a package of Wikki Stix on a recent visit. The "twistable, stickable, buildable, playable" sticks -- the brain child of Phoenicians -- look like brightly colored, oversize candle wicks. Turns out, you can twist them into all sorts of shapes, then untwist them and do it again. They're non-toxic, so it was okay when one disappeared.

Next time, we'll ask for two packages. We wanted to play with the Wikki Stix, but the toddler didn't want to share.

Arizona State University's campus is the most righteous place to blade, but the cops chase hard-core bladers away because they chip a little cement off benches and tables on daredevil slides and jumps. If you're tired of the hassle, the place to go for unlimited blade action is the Wedge.

With quarterpipes, lots of grinding rails, some bowls and a whole mother lode of other sweet stuff designed especially for bladers, the Wedge offers plenty of opportunity to bust out with some kick-ass blading moves. The vibe is less intense than the Valley's two other more skateboard-oriented parks in Phoenix and Chandler, and less intimidating for the preteen set just honing their plates. A few pro skaters practice at the Wedge, adding a layer of luster and inspiration. The park is open every day from dawn to 10 p.m., and it's free.

How would this go over at your household? "Mommy and Daddy are going to go out for a drink. You kids fend for yourselves." Now try this. "Let's go to Gameworks."

With all the latest and greatest in electronic gaming as well as a full bar and restaurant upstairs, Gameworks has everything you need to satisfy the "inner" and "outer" child. Look for the daily specials -- $20 for one hour of unlimited play, or $20 purchases $27.50 worth of eyeball-sucking fun. Feed the beast, unhook the leashes and the kids are off. The upper sanctum is sufficiently insulated from the mayhem a floor below to allow for a relaxing brew and, gasp, conversation! And don't worry about finding the kids. When their card runs out, they'll find you.

Readers' Choice for Best Kids' Fun at a Price: Castles-n-Coasters

Happy Meals do not grow on trees.

Still, that horticultural fact of life comes as news to many of the young city slickers who visit this West Valley agro-attraction.

"Many of these kids don't have a clue," reports Kathleen Duncan, who, with her husband, Arnott, operates the working farm that includes an organically certified pick-it-yourself veggie patch and petting zoo. Prior to visiting her farm, says Duncan, some young'uns don't know the difference between a cow and a pig, assume that produce grows in the grocery store and have yet to make the connection between barnyard fowl running around the property and the fried poultry nuggets they gobble down at McDonald's.

Fun and educational, the farm also features tractor rides, a seasonal cornfield maze, a farm machinery museum and picnic facilities for birthday parties and other group events. Head west on I-10 toward Goodyear and look to your right for the billboard of a giant baby terrorizing some miniature farm folk, one of several fanciful pop-art pieces that dot the Duncans' acreage.

If you like the idea of art, but aren't exactly sure which end to tell your kid is up in a museum or gallery, this program is the one for you. Its six weekly courses in art history -- held this year from September 20 to October 25 -- deliver the fundamentals of major art movements and works. The teachers are the museum's curators, so they're fluent in the subject. They deliver the lessons without peering down their noses. And the aim is pure: to train volunteers to take art into school classrooms. The program excels at teaching people how to look, and how to encourage children to do the same. We know of some schools where Art Masterpiece volunteers provide the only real art education of the school year.

Who knows why windmills and garishly painted plywood castles became the standard props for miniature-golf courses? But this is one Lilliputian links that bucks that trend with an Old West theme that has your balls rolling toward holes named Devil's Arch, Fool's Gold and Gravedigger's Gulch.

Here the greens are billiard-smooth and truly green -- none of that rumpled multicolored indoor/outdoor carpeting you find elsewhere. Instead of being made of cheap plastic, the putters are genuine metal. And the contours and unsloped lips around the holes make the two 18-hole courses challenging enough to make you want to keep score.

Even better, the approach to the courses doesn't lead through a dungeon of pulsating video games. Instead, it takes you past a driving range, where your children can see firsthand the horror that shanked and sliced balls bring to the faces of local duffers.