The Fisher Price Airport. When I was small, all I wanted for Christmas was the Fisher Price Airport. I lived and breathed for that thing. It was all I wanted. No other presents would be necessary; no other presents would do.
It was hard to come by. While visiting family in Indiana (we’re from Michigan) mom was lucky enough to find one in a Toys-R-Us. She brought it home and felt very pleased with herself.
On Christmas Eve, when she was getting ready to set it out (Santa didn’t wrap presents at our house, either), mom thought, “Gee, I should open this to make sure all of the pieces are in there. If they’re not, I’ll be prepared with an explanation for the rugrat and then I’ll get replacements from the company later on.” It was then that disaser struck.
The box was full of rocks and garbage. Someone had bought the toy, taken out all of the stuff, and returned the box with weights inside. It was December 24 and the family was on the verge of a Genuine Christmas Disaser ™.
Mom called every toy store in southeast Michigan and northwest Ohio. No one seemed to have the Fisher Price Airport I so desperately longed for. It was a popular toy, after all. Finally, a toy store about two hours north of us said, yes, they had the airport, but there was only one left and they couldn’t hold it. However, the extremely understanding lady on the phone said, it might wind up misshelved behind the Pampers in asile 3. Just by accident, of course.
Mom raced to the store and had that damned airport back in time for a very happy Christmas. And I played with that thing until the little red radar antenna fell off its roof.
I love my mommy so much for doing that for me.
psycat90, you’re kidding about the computer version of Merlin, right? Because that was my favorite car toy (must have driven my parents NUTS) and I would roast an infant to be able to play with it again.