The homework assignment for the weekend was for each family to select three things that meant something to them to put into the chest. The school was celebrating the opening of a brand-new building and wanted to bury items significant to the times to commemorate the day. I immediately thought of the toys I wanted to add, but I was surprised at how difficult it was for the kids to choose.
The first on my list was the robot dog. The dog was all silver, about 9” tall, and controlled by a wired controller that had buttons to make him bark and walk forward. Actually, it looked more like an inchworm creeping along rather than a real dog. The kicker was that it had a button to make it pee! So, not only was the dog repetitively noisy, but it also left puddles. The kids loved it! I’d be happy to see that toy go.
Same for the Bratz doll. Those dolls were just weird. It was hard to tell what they were supposed to be … I think the dolls were meant to encourage girl power! But to me, the one we had looked like a dominatrix. She was dressed in all black leather, complete with a spiked choker that circled her neck and scary-looking gloves. Adding to the weird look was the fact that the feet were missing. Rather than shoes that slipped onto her feet, her chunky shoes popped off, leaving footless legs. Weird. Maybe too weird to add to the chest.
My third selection was the Tamagotchi. At first, I thought it was such a clever idea and wondered why someone hadn’t thought of a virtual pet before! I bought two and figured if each kid had a virtual pet, there would be no more arguing with them about walking the dog or cleaning the water bowl. Boy, was I wrong about that. The Tamagotchis had to be fed, and walked, and trained, and all kinds of other stuff—virtually! I found myself “babysitting” because they often forgot to do one thing or another, and we didn’t want their pets to die. I was out voted; the Tamagotchi would not be put in the chest. That year, I managed to keep two Tamagotchis alive for the entire school year.
On Monday morning, when we were scrambling to finish our family homework, we ended up with a Pokémon card, a Teenie Beanie Baby cat, and that Sunday’s newspaper. I don’t remember what happened after that. I suppose there was a plan to unearth the treasure chest sometime in the future.
The treasure chest memory came to mind when I was trying—again—to sort through the stuff the kids left behind. Over the years, I’ve kept their rooms as bedrooms and left some clothes in the dressers and some toys in the closets. Each time they come home for a visit, I encourage them to take what they want. They have yet to take anything. It shouldn’t be this hard to toss old T-shirts and participation ribbons!
My daughter once asked me why I didn’t have anything from when I was little. I don’t know why, maybe because we moved a lot or maybe because after a number of years, my mom got tired of me refusing to take my stuff!
I think I’ll change my approach and save only a few special items that will fit into a “Wonder Years” time capsule.