Spring Has Sprung
The Slinky was a must-have item for me. I had to have a Slinky or I could not go on. It was as simple as that — and so be it.
I was presented my first Slinky, all silvery and metallic, on Christmas morn of Mikey's fourth or fifth year on the 1950s planet. It was a grand occasion and I immediately raced from our living room, up the ominous staircase to the second floor, and encouraged the virginal Slinky to "walk" down the steps, all the way to the bottom.
Image via Wikipedia
I descended, grabbed the Slinky and toddled back up to do it all over again.
Whee!
Then, I was done. As wonderful a toy as it is, Slinky is good for only about 90 seconds of enjoyment. I don't recall playing with the lovely gift ever again.
On a nostalgic whim, I purchased a colorful, plastic Slinky in 1992. I sent it down our steps once and crossed the springy coil over to the opposite hand and reversed the motion three or four times. I put the marvel into its carton and that was that.
I still own Slinky. Somewhere. Probably in a big mystery box in a closet.
I saw the toy in 1999, when we moved to our current home. I did not play with my Slinky. The 90 seconds of seven years prior continued to satiate me.
One moment.
Okay. I've huddled with myself. Sorry, Slink.
In a related memory from the titanic tot era, I fell down those early wooden steps in a nasty tumble.
Bump! Bump! Bump!
I instructed the survivors to dub me "Mlinky."
1 comment:
90 seconds? I would spend a lot more time than that just watching it walk down the stairs while the tune to the commercial was engraving itself forever in my mind.
"It's slinky, it's slinky......
"...it walks the stairs without a care...."
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