When I was 8, I cried and cried for a walky-talky doll.
Then she finally came to me with her big blue eyes, pitch black hair and red pinafore dress, and I was thrilled to bits.
At least for the first 24 hours. After that I was curious to see what made her walk and talk. So I ripped her head off and opened up her tummy!
That was the last toy I was ever given.
You might think that cute of an eight-year-old, but at 36-and-a-half it's downright deplorable.
When will I ever learn?
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6 comments:
On a roll, eh?
The doll story reminds me of my Bush radio story. I opened up a broken radio to see how it looks inside. But Papa Hyde always claims I broke open a working radio and that I should "stop experimenting"!
:) I have a new Barbie. And for once I do not intend to give her a haircut. Or wash her clothes till they fade. :-|
@Hyde - Not really, I just had these posts languishing as drafts and decided (against better judgement as usual) to publish :D
I loved tinkering with old radios and cassette players. In fact, as I grew older my favourite past-time was mending damaged cassettes. I was pretty good at it too!
@DewdropDream - You have a Barbie now? That's one doll I've never played with. I always found it too small and wondered I could do with it apart from hitting my brother or cousins on their heads!
HAHAHA!!! Dang! NOW you tell me?! I do ... I was indulging my inner 3 year old :-| She's happy, so I guess I can go off an indulge my inner five year old, ten year old, fifteen year old ... you get the picture :D
Mending cassettes? Wow! Cellotape or gum?
@Hyde - You know what? I'm gonna do a post about it. Thanks for the inspiration!
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