I was that kid in my childhood. If there was a toy you wanted but your parents wouldn’t get it, I had it. There were just a couple of things I had the good sense not to ask for–G.I. Joe’s aircraft carrier, He-Man’s Eternia playset, maybe that’s it?–because even as a child I could tell when I was being hustled. But I had everything else, and all the game consoles, and dozens of games for each one. I’ve spent way too much time going down old toy rabbit holes online and I discover entire lines of toys that I completely forgot about and I had all of them.
I’m not bragging. I’m setting the stage.
So as I entered adulthood, I realized that I had been completely spoiled by my parents and grandparents. I found it a little embarrassing, though of course I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But when I started my first job, working at Toys R Us (of course) in my hometown, I started to get disillusioned by the whole enterprise. I saw the toys at face value, these pieces of plastic in the shape of licensed characters, and I saw these kids begging their parents for them and getting so upset when they couldn’t get them. I told myself I’d raise my children differently, teach them that material things don’t complete you, only you can fill the void inside yourself, you owe no allegiance to these corporate mascots.
Then we bought our son a Fisher Price jumperoo and he loved it so much that I want to buy him absolutely everything in the world for the rest of my life. I want to see his face light up like that every waking second. And once again I understood my parents a great deal more.
Colin Fisher is many things to many people, but mostly he’s an actor and writer.