I remember those. Were they thick plastic records with obvious grooves? I never had one but looked simple enough.
There never was a pony Christmas morning. Maybe that’s why I have four now.
StG
I’ll have to ask my brother, but I think that these played actual records.
Unless that’s why it never worked. 
I thought Scrubbing Bubbles with googly eyes and scrubby wheely feet were going to come shooting out of that aerosol can.
When I was maybe 8 or so, I overhead my mother saying she just wanted to go live in a teepee (or tipi if you prefer). It was a statement of hyperbolic fed-upness about something, but I was soooo excited that we were all going to live in a teepee! I could wear the awesome Indian princess outfit that Mom made me for Christmas every single day! I’d probably have to have a pony, too.
Needless to say, I was disappointed when none of this came to pass.
Being quite fond of the Disney movie “The Jungle Book”, I was quite disappointed that the book by Rudyard Kipling was not a novelization of the movie.
Learning at age 10, that giving up all your star wishes and birthday candle wishes, and praying ever single night is not going to keep your grandpa from dying of cancer. And then finding out later that ALL OF THE GROWN UPS already knew this and yet encouraged me, was even worse.
Play-Doh just does not taste like it looks like it looks and feels like it should (which is absolutely delicious). :mad:
When I was little, one of my friends lived in a trailer park. I thought it was so clever how they fit a kitchen, bathroom, and bedrooms into a linear trailer. Plus, as a military brat, I exclaimed to Mom we should get one, so when we move, we just hitch it to the car.
Then Mom had to explain that trailer parks <> large Winnebagos 
On an airplane flight when I was 8 or 10, a flight attendant gave my sister an entire can of soda, whereas I only got a small cup.
When I was 6, my family was going on a vacation to Toronto. My grandmother gave my sister and me some Canadian pennies. She gave my sister two more pennies than I got because my sister is two years older than me.
For about a decade, my dad made plans to take all four kids out of school to sail around the world with him on our boat. We didn’t HAVE a boat, but my dad had all kinds of books about boats, always had pieces of boats around, and since I’d seen him cobble magic from nothing, I had no doubts he could build us a boat.
You know what, that wasn’t really a disappointment. That was kind of a cool dream to have, even if we didn’t do it.
When I was a little kid I ordered a “Monster Remote Control Ghost - 7 ft. Tall!” from the back of a comic book. It was a whole dollar!
Several weeks later, I got a balloon with a face on it, a white trash bag, and a length of fishing line.
I think my lifelong cynicism began the day that “Monster Ghost” arrived.
ETA: Apparently I wasn’t the only one: $1.25 Remote-Controlled Ghost! - YouTube
Yep, I bought one too. I hung it from a railing so you would see it just as you turned the corner coming down the stairs. It scared the shit of my grandmother so it wasn’t too disappointing.
That’s so sad
My childhood disappointment:
It was Christmas and my sister and I each had a huge present. She unwrapped hers first. It was a cage for a bunny! Wow, a cuddly bunny. I got a fish tank.
You can’t cuddle a fish, talk to a fish. What are fish even for?!
I couldn’t say anything, I didn’t want to be ungrateful. I had to spend years and years feigning an interest in fish. I was given a larger, more sophisticated tank. And books about bloody fish.
Bloody hate stupid fish. I wanted a bunny.
My mom told me how disappointed she was with her first visit to Denver when she was a little girl. She had really been looking forward to seeing what a mile high city looked like!
Not so much disappointed as relieved: my 4-y.o. brother fell asleep watching TV. So as he lie there zonked-out, I crouched next to him, repeating in a whisper *“Danny - when you wake up, you’ll think you’re a chicken!” *for the better part of an hour. As the time to wake up for dinner approached, I had a dawning apprehension “oh shit, what if this really works?!”
Aww.
I once read a book about how to do voodoo. It showed how to make a voodoo doll of a person you hated, and how to stick a pin through its heart to kill your enemy. I didn’t really have any enemies, but my big brother could be pretty bothersome. So I stuck a pin through the doll’s right hand.
When I went downstairs, I saw that my brother’s right hand was in a cast. I felt terribly guilty about that for… a couple of hours?
Easy Bake Oven, and Lite Bright. Damn things never worked right.
Being told we’d get to keep one of our dog’s puppies that she’d had as an oops (this was my parents, not me, I had no control over spaying her or even how to spell the word “spay” at the time. I wrote in my diary she’d been “spade” afterwards.) - we even had one picked out - until the day we got home from school and they were all gone. And I have a pretty good idea where they went. At least they were puppies and had a fighting chance I guess.
Confronted my mom much, much later about it as an adult and she said she was sorry, she couldn’t remember ever promising we could keep one.
I like to imagine this happening every time I open the can.
This reminds me of the beanie incident in Calvin and Hobbes.
My contribution: I grew up in Michigan. I was disappointed when I visited Ohio - my first trip out of state - and everybody was still speaking English. My Mom had to explain to me that Ohio was not a foreign country. I was so bummed.
Oh goodie, I’m not alone.