Dr. Nokes recently posted pictures of a medieval-themed childhood birthday present that brought back some memories for me -- mainly, simmering resentment with a patina of vengefulness. After all, isn't that what Fisher Price toys are all about?
As I related in the comments at Unlocked Wordhoard, I had always wanted that big plastic castle, with its trap door and dungeon and working drawbridge. Yet it was my brother who received its pseudo-medieval finery. When I explained my deep hurt to my parents, I was rewarded on my own birthday with the most disappointing present I'd ever received: the Fisher Price House. What a misreading of my desires! This dinky domicile didn't come with a dragon or a queen or a portcullis. It did, however, feature a bed, a stove, a table and a tiny garage. What was I supposed to do with that thing, pretend I was a cast member of the Brady Bunch?
Eventually I did learn that the Fisher Price House made a great set for the staging of natural disasters. Its little plastic cocoon of domestic bliss was under siege by earthquakes, hurricanes, and (most fatally) a mudslide. After the latter, the Parental Authorities declared the house would remain an outdoor toy. I predict that future archaeologists will someday disinter it from the Cohen backyard and declare it a miniature temple with small, peg-like idols for convenient worship.
So what about you? What was the worst gift you ever received? (And please don't say "A copy of Medieval Identity Machines.")
(photo credit: no, that cute tyke isn't me. Cameras hadn't been culturally constructed yet when I was a kid. I found the picture -- with the very house in question -- here).