Toys…

I looked up “toy” in the Webster dictionary (here).┬áIt’s not very flattering and dare I say it? Accurate. Because I highly doubt, anybody, ANYBODY, who owns a blind box toy would call it “paltry” or “something a child plays with”.

I have a love. It’s called the blind box toy. You know. That genius idea of wrapping a collectible artist decorated “toy” in non-x-ray-able foil and leaving it to 2/15, 1/15, or ?/??? chance. I often find myself getting caught up in the madness…not that I don’t have my limits or lack of space. But that rush, that THRILL of anticipation as I rip open the package in hopes of that rare ?/??? or that equally cute figurine…is all that I need. It’s addictive. And I don’t mind getting all giddy & silly with the shop staff as I open my package. Honestly though, I have the worst luck. And more often than not, I get the one I DON’T want. Like that ONE scary/ugly/boring one in the WHOLE collection? That’s the one I usually get. Still, I’m a believer. That the next time. The next time, I crack open that small cardboard box. I’m going to get the one I want.

I play the game of chance

And that’s why I come back for more.

~y

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