Stretch Armstrong and the Slinky

This post grew out of a thread on the BFS forums, asking people to tell about their favorite toy ever. Well, I can't recall one or two toys that I loved above all else - but I can SURE talk about one I hated!

When I was about 4 years old or so, what I wanted more than anything in the world was a Stretch Armstrong doll. I have no idea why I wanted one, just that I did. I only found out last year that it was my father who did the honors, and my father to whom I owe an apology. Because I opened the package on my birthday, and squealed in delight when I saw that I'd been given the much-desired doll... right up until I reached into the box. Because the same thing that made him stretch, also made him (at least to little baby me) terrifying! Weird texture, kindy gooshy... yikes!!! So I tossed the doll, box and all, across the room, screaming, and refused to go anywhere near it.I wish the story ended there, but there's one little detail. You see, being a good big sister, Chelle did what any respectable big sis would do. She hid the doll in my underwear drawer. That night, as I was getting ready to take my bath, I reached in, totally not expecting my hand to brush that wierd, icky, gooshy squooshy thing... and the screaming began again.

I can get even with her though. As bad as Stretch scared me, I eventually got over it. Chelle, on the other hand, still breaks into hives when she sees a Slinky.

It started when Chelle was about 3, and still tiny baby Shelly. Our cousin Robbie was 5, and our cousin Ronnie was... hmm... significantly older and quite the juvenile delinquent in the making. He got it into his head to put the girls back to back, Shelly standing and Robbie sitting. Then he tied them up with a Slinky. One of the old metal ones. And left them there. Now, the first problem came because it took the grown-ups a little while to even figure out that Robbie and Shelly were missing. Then, once they were found, the grown-ups realized that the Slinky was so hopelessly tangled, there was no way to simply unwind it. It would have to be cut away. With a pair of bolt cutters. Bolt cutters that were about as long as Shelly was tall. Can you imagine being three years old and seeing those coming at you? No wonder she was scared!!! But the part that I always tease her about, is that now, over 30 years later, she still can't stand the sight of a Slinky. She honestly, literally breaks into hives. Hyperventilating. Shuddering.

Of course, every time I threaten her with a Slinky, she counters with a threat of sending me a Stretch Armstrong. I just don't have the heart to tell her that I'm not scared of Stretch anymore.

I'm not.

Really.