The little red haired girl

Little one was playing with a friend’s Fisher Price toys last night. The original ones. The family of four little wooden people flew on the plane to the Three Bear’s house. What a giant key they have.

Now with eight in the tiny home, don’t forget Goldilocks, it was a bit tight for space. So out came a bigger home with all the original furnishings except for the television. Little one didn’t seem to mind.

The furnishings, sewing machine, washer, and dryer were placed efficiently… as they should be… Remember these are antiques. This was the very early 70’s. Did I play like that at her age with these same exact toys?

This is what we did before video games, computers, and cell phones. When we weren’t playing outside that is. A full day’s entertainment, and were weren’t halfway through the box yet.

Suddenly out came all of the other people. The farmer with his plastic hat. Grandma with her white bun. The bulldog. This caught my attention.

Little One happily played with the new barn, silo, and people… setting up the fence, impaling the chickens and rooster on it… posing the horse, cow, pig, sheep, dog… making the barn door go “MOOoo” giggling endlessly.

I was lost though. I saw her. The little red haired girl.

This was me… my choice of character way back then. I remembered her and traveled back through time. My stories were often a bit darker than most girls’ though… kidnapping… bondage… forced slavery… spanking… I was always a damsel in distress… as far back as I can remember.

How did you play with your toys?

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