One year Emily was all about a new toy that was called My Meebas. And she received one in her easter basket.
The problem was Emily was young, too young to understand how to read and keep up with the demands of this small electronic baby. So she just cast it aside. But I was DYING to know what on earth a meeba was. So read the dag gone manual and played, fed, talked and messed with that little thing pretty much non stop. Well- as non stop as one can be with three young children. So basically I devoted 4 minutes max over the course of a day- but still, that was a commitment.
The damn thing never opened. And it eventually sunk to the bottom of the toybox to live.
This past Saturday was the kid stuff sale at our church- and in an effort to regain a few square feet of living space, I took a booth and sold toys like a crazy toy woman. While setting up the booth, I found our meeba. Only the top was popped open and there was nothing inside. Empty.
I frantically tracked down Emily (who was shoe shopping in a neighboring booth) and asked her about the meeba.
"Oh mom- it was pink and purple and little and cute- it was really awesome" and then she completely turned her back on me and continued her shopping. Not even caring that when the thing 'popped' out of the top not a living soul in this house showed me.
And there I stood with my pink plastic baby holder in hand knowing that all those hours of nurturing and mindless button pushing were spent for nothing- because I still will NEVER know what in the heck a my meeba is.
And neither will you. See- it's pretty disappointing isn't it?