The Death of a Toy

Few things in childhood are as magical as a favorite toy. With the power to transform normal sprints through the house into small stints of crime fighting bliss or high speed races and crashes, toys add high octane to already super revved imaginations. Every person can remember one or a couple of toys that specifically became amazing play pals of early childhood.

However, the day when that magical friend passes on to the great toy box in the sky can be strange. Young children, not yet grasping the weight of life and death, can move on to the next toy, perhaps only to reminisce later in life about how special the play thing once was.
Toys usually live a full, adventurous, and chaotic life. A list of their endeavor can include but are not limited to flying, fighting, being a sleeping buddy, consuming mass quantities of tea, racing in Barbie Jeeps, lying around naked, the list is endless. Which can greatly affect the suddenness of the passing of the toy. Given these circumstances, it can either be quick, or a long drawn out process.

For instance, I give you Spiderman. Spiderman had been with us for approximately 8 months before his passing. However, he had only been with us about 3 day when this occurred.



Several failed attempts were made to reattach the limb.

Over the next several months, Spiderman was stricken with various other ailments. His head continued to come off and had to be reattached several times. (Some genius toy engineer though that non anchored ball and socket joint on toys were a wonderful idea. He didn’t realize the Grandma Esther Hip Syndrome the toys would acquire.)
Spiderman also lost fingers on his remaining web slinging hand, until one night he passed suddenly, via this unexplained phenomena.


He is survived by Buzz Lightyear, Sheriff Woody, and by Optimus Prime. (Suffering from early stages of G.E.H.S.)