In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Out of Your Reach.”
My parents were very strict growing up. Sure, they bought us several toys if they’re in the mood or we’ve been good, or if my dad likes the toys (he bought a Nintendo one day, we thought it was for us, turns out that’s just ’cause he wants to play the Nintendo). Bottom line is, there were plenty of toys that I want growing up that I could not have.
The thirst for the incredible toys when I was growing up was so strong and yet I could not have fulfilled those thirst. It became even worse when my dad (for reasons unknown to me, even to this day) went home and brought the Argos catalogue of the Autumn/Winter of 1995. That thing is heaven for an eight year old like me. It has 400 or so pages full of magical things (no, I am not referring to leprechauns or unicorns). Okay, are you intrigue by the so called Argos catalogue? If so, then go to this website and bask in its glory with me as we are going back to the year of 1996 (I did not see the catalogue until the next year, actually) when my greatest toys was my imagination and my Argos catalogue in hand (at that point, I had singlehandedly claimed that the catalogue was mine).
Now, if you go and open page 415 and find picture number eight, you would see one of my unfulfilled wish of childhood; the cashier! For some odd reason, I have a huge fascination for cash registers. Anytime I went to a supermarket and I saw unattended or closed register, I would try my best to subtlety pressed on the keys of the registers (in case anyone is wondering, I still do it even at 27). This cash register toy is just amazing! Not only it sort of looked like the real cash register, I think it came with a set of fake money (including coins also).
Put it simply, almost every single toys that were present in the catalogue were all the stuffs that I would have been more than happy to received had my parents bought them. Knowing that I could not ask them for the said toys, what I did then was just stare at those pictures and imagined having them in my room and just played with it imaginatively, as if it were present in my room. It was a daily occurrence in my household back in 1996-1997 to see me back from school, change out of my uniform and go straight to any available table and just open and stare into the majesty that is my Argos catalogue. I could stay like that for hours, just relying on my active 8 year old imagination; I would only stop playing with my toys (*cough* Argos catalogue *cough*) when a friend ring me up to go out and play on our in-line skates.
For your information, I have the sickest in-line skates in the neighbourhood; it was black with four different coloured wheels (I think it was pink, purple, lime green, and yellow). It’s fancy, y’all!