I’m pretty sure we all loved playing with toys as a kid. Whether it was action figures or Barbie dolls, we all enjoyed playing. We were young, innocent, and didn’t know the troubles of the world. Didn’t have to worry about things. The extent of worries were who am I going to play with and what powers does this toy have. This reminds me of a time when I was playing with my Poppy. He always mentions this to me as something he found hilarious when playing with me. To paint the picture for you, we were kneeled around a circular living room table. There was a box of toys next to us to pull from. You could pick anyone you wanted. However, if you picked someone I liked I would most likely take them away and put them on my team. Things quickly took a turn as we started to play. I made up rules on the spot. I was a tyrant. If I saw any chance of losing the battle, I’d say, “you can’t play with that toy.” Fairness? It didn’t exist.The fight started on the ground. Immediately, I was getting crushed. I wasn’t ready for this type of onslaught. Every toy I brought out to the battlefield was annihilated. Imagine a crazy bearded man (beardo) with glasses smashing toys to pieces every time they came near him. That was Poppy. I’d bring a guy out and Poppy would tear his arms off. Screws and plastic exploded in every direction. Accessories like guns and light sabers were gobbled up. My imaginary bullets did absolutely nothing. I shouted, “I’m shooting you!” and Poppy would simply reply, “Forcefield.”
I had to do something. I didn’t have a choice. I raised my toys into the air. As he raised his toy to meet mine, I slapped it away. “What? why can’t…?” he started to say, but I cut him off with, “No!” I dominated the sky with my figurines. The battle took a drastic turn as I started to win. Imagine all my toys looking at each other in celebration as one of them shouts, “We’re gonna win this thing!” Characters that didn’t even have wings were waiting high up in the air. I flew through the air swooping down like an eagle to snatch up Poppy’s figurines and throw them across the room. Poppy just looked at me. I said to him, “My guys can fly.” He shook his head and replied, “It’s just not fair!” I informed him that those were the rules. Why? Because I said so. Toy after toy would be slapped away and tossed across the room. My Nana stepped out amidst the chaos to ask, “What’s going on here?” Poppy responded with, “His guys can fly!?!” I just nodded and continued my warpath. Poppy, fed up with the whole thing, got up and flew out of the room.