When I was 10 years old, I made the mature decision that my days of playing with toys were over. I was too old for silly toys.I wanted to be “BIG”.
Growing up, I wasn’t much of a barbie/baby doll fan. I was all about animals; my toys were dogs, cats, leopards, zebras, lizards etc. I had two stuffed animals that I loved more than the rest of my toys. One was a stuffed animal I got from the Disney store (my favorite toy store of all time except the gift shop at the zoo…). It was a Dalmatian, Perdida from 101 Dalmatians. The other favorite toy was one my sisters and I called, “Cow boy” ; it was a ratty version of Wiley the Coyote that we got from the thrift store.
I picked up Perdida, knowing that I must do away with my most favorite toys if my plan for becoming an
adult was going to work. My fingers were shaking, but I was determined. I knew I had to do something drastic, something that would never make me want to play with her again. I took a pair of scissors and chop chop. Her ears were gone. The poor dog now looked like a speckled alien. I fought back tears and headed down stairs and out the door to the garage. I took one last look at Perdida and tossed her in the outside garbage. Cowboy was next.
I was an adult now.
Memories of the times I had with Perdida and Cowboy played through my mind.
Perdida and Cowboy had been through a lot, but were toys that were loved to pieces (almost literally). Once while playing with Perdida I accidentally dropped her in a puddle. My parents were burning a pile of bamboo (btw…I love bamboo forests!) so I came up with the genius plan of drying my stuffed animal off by putting her near this inferno of burning bamboo. I put her about 6inches away from the flames and tell Andrea, “Let’s run to the end of the driveway and back and then she’ll be dry!” (back then we lived on forty acres…and our drive way was a quarter mile long…) After running a distance of around 500ft I throw my head around, to glance on the progress of Perdida drying. She was dry alright. And also on fire. No big deal. I scream and run back and save her. She survived the incident…but there were scars.And Cowboy had been so over played with his neck no longer had stuffing inside, his head just hung loosely from body like it was only attached with a string.
As the memories poured in, I started to feel guilty, horrible, like Sid from the movie Toy Story. TOY STORY! SID! (I’m pretty sure Toy Story made us all believe or at least wonder if our toys were …alive) Crap! My poor toys! I ran outside and grabbed Perdida and Cowboy wailing, “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!”. I sowed Perdida’s ears back on her…and put her back in my room where she belongs. And yup, I still own Perdida today! And I wish I had a picture of her, but she is at my house in Colorado!
What was your favorite childhood toy? Did you do anything drastic to
speed on the process of becoming an adult?