If you take your childhood toy obsessions with you into adulthood, you should–in theory–be more tolerant of your fellow travelers. I’ve never understood the appeal of Hello Kitty, but hey, whatever rocks your world. I don’t know how she came by it, but this button was among random small things given to me by Lynne at Christmas. At the very least, it’s a softer, gentler perspective on presidential politics.
The other night when I was perusing store shelves hoping to see the new batch of Twilight-themed Barbies (shockingly, there are some I don’t have), a man at the end of my aisle was muttering something. Suddenly he gave a victorious yelp, snatched something off the wall, and began walking off. I swear I didn’t look his way–since I do know what it’s like to be an adult who finds that elusive Ages 3+ toy–but he felt compelled to turn around and look at me.
“This is the BEST DICE GAME IN EXISTENCE,” he said, holding his future purchase up so that I could see it. When I didn’t respond, he again assured me that “NO GAME HAS EVER BEEN AS FUN!”
I glanced back at Lynne, who as a grandmother has a much more socially acceptable reason to be in the toy department, and we shrugged. I found another one on the wall, noted that it was on sale, and added it to my purchases. No one’s actually played it yet, so I can neither confirm nor refute his declaration. But it’s nice to know that word-of-mouth endorsements still make us take a chance in the realm of entertainment. Writers, for example, depend on that.