I’ll admit it, I was late to the game. While half the school seemed to be rotating Nice Cubes, Gumdrops, or whatever new texture dropped that week, I remained only an observer. They’d been sitting on desks all year, getting tossed between friends, stashed in backpacks, and used during tests. But even though I was surrounded by them, I didn’t actually get one until last month.

I had seen the NeeDoh takeover happen in real time, but it didn’t really pervade my life until my little sister brought home her first “Groovy Glob” and begged me to try it out. As many older brothers would, I rolled my eyes, assuming it was just another useless toy or short-lived obsession that would end up forgotten at the bottom of her backpack within a week. Still, she insisted, gave it glowing reviews, and wouldn’t drop it until I finally squeezed it.

Unexpectedly, I finally understood. It was obviously fun and trendy, there was also something weirdly grounding about it. In a world where we’re constantly thinking about the next thing to do, it’s nice to focus on something so simple, something quiet.

Looking back, it makes sense that NeeDoh’s didn’t explode all at once. It didn’t arrive with intense hype, as Labubus did, or with a celebrity influencer pushing it as the next big thing. In fact, NeeDoh’s have been around for years, originally marketed as stress toys for adults. But over time, they emerged in backpacks in schools without demanding attention or bragging. They’re passed around, borrowed, compared, and sometimes argued over, but mostly they just exist in the background of the school day, doing their job.

The job of a NeeDoh feels relevant right now. Most of the stress in high school doesn’t come from one huge moment, but rather everything stacking up together. The neverending classwork, sports and clubs after school, the constant pressure of what comes next, and the feeling of being behind doesn’t win. Even when there is nothing due, it feels like there is always something to be done.

NeeDohs slide into this reality, acting as a pause button, almost, where all you have to focus on is the satisfying squeeze. You can grab one during class or a test or at the end of a long day, and it doesn’t draw attention or disrupt anything. It just gives your hands something steady to hold onto when your mind won’t slow down.

There’s also quite communal about them. I’ve recently come to enjoy trading my mini Nice Cube with my friends’ orange gumdrop during class. It may be a small thing, but NeeDohs help create the understanding that everyone is stressed sometimes, and it’s important to help where one can.

I’m still late to the game with my single Nice Cube, but it’s safe to say I get it now. The NeeDoh takeover is not just another trend, but about finding something small and physical to hold onto, and I think these inconspicuous toys are here to stay.