Sunday Scribblings has come up with the word 'Toys' as the prompt this week
I’ve been on writing strike! My friend Keith (hey, I’ve done my first solo link!) had women problems (again) and said he’d got writers block (actually I think he was playing the sympathy card). Anyway I refused to write until he got his act together. Not that it did any good; I don’t think he even noticed!

Anyway, up popped this prompt about toys and I suddenly remembered that I had a box of my old toys stored away in my Ma and Pa’s attic. ‘Let’s dig it out Rosey’ I said to myself. Do you do that sometimes? You talk out loud to yourself and then feel a complete idiot! Fuzzeybut and Scruff (my kitties) looked at me as if I was mad!

While I think about it, have you ever heard Keith boast that he was married for twenty one years? What he doesn’t always say is that it was in three lots of seven!

Where was I? Oh yes, my toys. To cut a long story short I got the box from the attic (I don’t like going up there ever since I trod between the beams and put my foot through the ceiling plaster!) then blew the dust off the lid causing me to sneeze in a violent fashion, put it in my little car, took it home, opened it, sneezed again, and there they were! Lots of my childhood toys.

Unfortunately this is where my tale goes downhill. I was so excited about what I’d find, but as one by one I took out the toys, I thought that I must have been a very boring child indeed. I mean, most little girls had sparkly tiaras and angels wings. I had a policeman’s helmet and a strange back pack with a picture of a train on it. I’d forgotten that I never owned a Barbie doll or a jewellery box with a pirouetting plastic fairy on it. But I had an action man and an Oxo tin full of silly badges instead of girly necklaces and bracelets. I did find a Teddy bear, but even he had a sarcastic smirk on his face. I had a few toy cars, a cowboy gun and a book about tying knots. There was a catapult and a magnifying glass and a broken plastic skeleton.

It was SO depressing. Anyway, I packed it all away again and right now it’s sitting by my front door so I can take it back to my parent’s loft next time I visit them.

I’m sorry if I’ve made a few mistakes. Usually I run everything I write past Keith but right now it’s not worth the bother. Actually I don’t think I did too bad (sorry Keithy – I think that shoud read badly!)


Old Grizz said...

Your chest of toy's sounds like a treasure trove of great prompts for writing. Don't try to be another girl. Be Rosey. Save the chest. Take each golden memory out one by one and write about it. You will be writing "Rosy", not Keith or some other girl with a Barbie Doll or a Tiara. You sound more interesting than that.

gautami tripathy said...

Actually I like your old toys. Can send those to me?

I live in Delhi and you can ask Keith all about India!

wrath of nature

Jennifer Hicks said...

Hey, I didn't have a lot of fancy toys...I got over it at a certain point and it was a lesson in the fact that I don't need material items to make me happy!

Made up toys are the best ones!

Shadow said...

that's delightful. going through our childhood things...

Shari said...

I doubt my toys would be in a state I would want to revisit - 3 brothers came after me, not to mention all the little visitors over the years. On the other hand I still love going through the books I read as a child.

b said...

Rosey...I just didn't see you as a toy gun kind of girl. It is surprising what you will find in your childhood toy box.


2cats said...

You just weren't a baby doll kind of girl, and that is all right.
It is part of what made you you.
I like your chatty writing style.