My son turned 5 last October. To mark the occasion I bought the sort of toy he seems to love—Marble Mania Twin Turbo Track 3!
Sure, the thing cost $50 at Costco. But, again, it’s exactly the sort of toy Boy digs. A winding path, marbles, intricate and detailed thinking, bright colors. Hence, I plunked down the dough, brought the big box home, wrapped it and smiled as he wailed, “Coooool!” upon seeing it for the first time.
And the good times pretty much ended there.
First, it took my father and law and my wife approximately six hours to put Marble Mania Together. By the time it was ready, Boy was thrilled. And, indeed, that thrill lasted—for about an hour. Then pieces started falling off. And falling apart. The marbles would reach certain points and cease to roll. Literally, they’d stop in their tracks. Gradually, Boy began ignoring the toy. Too many tilted pieces, too many popped joints. It quickly became an albatross around the neck of our play room. The wife hated looking at it. I hated looking at it. It could have been fixed, but only to a certain degree. It was, simply put, a shit toy.
Well, today I threw it out.
This pains me. That’s $50 in a trash can. That’s a toy I thought my son would love. But, like old T-shirts and faded boyhood trophies and the like, there comes a time when one must let go of possessions.
It just doesn’t tend to happen four months after purchase …
PS: Yes, I spelled “losses” as “loses.” Oy.
