Sad stories about toys

My first ever He-Man figure was an obscure karate guy called Jitsu. It was my pride and joy. One day I came home from school and couldn't find it. My Mum had to break it to me gently that my little sister had thrown it out of the car window whilst they were driving up the A1(M).
She refused to go back and let me try and get it.

My mother used to rent out some room or something to this couple called Udy and Leih. L was sort of screetchy and terrifying, and talked to my mum in Hebrew a lot, which I don't speak, so that was sort of annoying. But Udy was just this crazed clumsy man-beast, who was like six foot five (he'd been an israeli paratrooper and in prison a lot etc etc).

It was turtle-craze days. I had nunchucks. None of the other kids were allowed nunchucks. I was the fucking don. One day, Udy asked to see them. He held them in his hands. The METAL CHAIN snapped clean in two. He just sorta looked sheepish. Leih let out this weird cackle.

I can still picture this moment. I guess I still have rage.

why do these memories stay with us? i think it's the brutality of realising for the first time that when things are gone, they can be gone forever.

Never mind. That year I asked for Micro Machines for Christmas and I got them and it was great because I could now go to school and join in with the fun of racing them round the playground.

Yes, if they hadn't've banned them the day we got back on January the 6th.

DL's mum "i'm sorry dog latin but your (btw omg cute!!!) sister had thrown your he-man figure out of the A1 open brackets M close brackets"

i also like how your mum just called you dog latin.
i also like how your mum perved over your sister like sick mouthy.

My mom still gets sad whenever she mentions the time her cousins came to visit and my mother didn't want to let the cousin play with her (carefully kept) prince and bride dolls (nice porcelain-headed dolls with real hair and handmade clothes) and was told to share by the adults. A cousin then proceeded to cut off all the bride's long hair and nearly scalped the prince. Despair ensued, though these dolls are still kept wrapped in tissue in a drawer at my grandmother's house.

PS. How's yr sister, Charlie?

i think i was the only kid i knew who's action man hadn't been stripped of his clothing or covered in jam stains.

Possibly it was, but I'm a couple of years older than mine and don't know where it is so ergo you must've taken it, thief. To atone you should wangle me a date wiv yr sis.

Oh aaargh this reminds me. Back when pogs were it, I was never allowed any 'cos blah blah Spurious Fad blah blah waste of money. One day I saw the Fays playing with them in the gardens, and they were so appalled that I didn't have any that Kieran gave me three to start off, so I could play the pogs game with them, it was like genuine pity.

Anyway we played. I had to borrow their slammers, O the indignity.

I completely won. They were all really shit at it. How hard is it to land a pog on the other side? I think I was up to like twenty when Kieran grabbed all the pogs and walked off, saying he was going home. I was all "but those're mine" and he acted like he didn't hear. He walked for like twenty minutes with me following, until I gave up :(

It's all coming back now!

Much later in life, when we moved into our house, I took the old vacuum cleaner from the shop home, it was this little drum-shaped Siemens thing that probably was made in the early sixties. We got a new Vax, and Jill said, "I'll throw that old thing out" or whatever. I told her no, I'd use it form the attic, where my studio is. It still worked ok, there was nothing wrong with it, I hate seeing servicable stuff getting pitched for no reason. About a week later, I noticed it had gone. She'd gone and chucked it away anyway. Gawd, I was so upset about it! THE EXACT SAME FEELING!!!

Similar k-lame angst = decent, sometimes very old stuff you've been given, and not looked after. I can think of many examples.

ebay.

Speaking of valuable toys, I had an original 1960s Sindy doll with a rather fab Jean Seberg style outfit. I came home one day to find that our dog had chewed off one of her legs. Horror! (And even more horror when I saw a vintage toy expo some years later featuring the exact same Sindy, outfit and all.)

But can't find a picture. The Home Truths website has a pic of the packaging but it doesn't look anything like the version my gran has in the attic - must be a newer design.

"Meccano made some important changes to the system. Initially this involved the dropping of the various single piece roofs in favour of a range of different sized Flat Roofs and Ends."

It was Christmas morning around 4am, I was eagerly awaiting Autobot reinforcements...I was soon unwrapping presents...but there on the floor was Sunstreaker, I'd only had him a couple of months, but oh no! I trod on him and his arm snapped off :(...he quickly took Cliffjumper and uttered the line "please don't tell the others, but I'm broken"

oh, and then there was the time that my dog chewed up the guard from Jabba's palace, it was just like outta Return of the Jedi.

When I was 8, we drove down to California from Vancouver, camping all the way. I was only vaguely tuned into the fact that we were actually moving to San Diego for no official reason (adventure? seeing how deep into poverty we could go? ah, but it was fun.) I had a small bag of carefully chosen toys; everything else had gone in the garage sale. Somewhere north of Los Angeles, we stopped our overheated volkswagon van at a campground, which was the opposite of any campground in the pacific north west - dry, yellow grass, no trees, only prickly bushes. But kids can play anywhere and the tall grass worked well as hide and seek coverage. My favourite toy at the time was a small, white lamb, to which I had tied a string so it could go everywhere with me. I conferred with the lamb often and though it had little to say, it seemed happy. After a night at the campground, my brothers and I were having one last game of hide and seek. When I emerged from hiding, I looked to lamb-y to celebrate my win with me. I found only an empty string. I searched, but my lamb was lost to the campground. Maybe this is why California in the summer has always seemed both sad and cruel to me.

When their family left, and I went to claim my lego set I found than all my lego men were headless. My cousic had eaten all their heads :(

To this day, I still have my set of decapitated lego men.

What is it about injustices as a child that stick? Those teachers that punish you for something you TOTALLY didnt do... I swear, they have a power over someones life they really ought to be more careful with.

I do often look at the toys in the supermarket and sigh mournfully at the inappropriateness of me buying them. I really want a remote controlled car, damn it.

(this is true)

I was sad when western barbie's winking eye stopped winking and just stuck there, half closed. Yeah, sad and *freaked out*.

Maybe I just ought to learn to drive.

Nobody believed me that it had had eyes in the first place. BUT IT DID! And their loss haunted me for YEARS.

Bobby Shaftoe's bright and fair,
Combing down his yellow hair,
He's my ain for ever mair,
Bonny Bobby Shaftoe.

...and the other one was a japanese girl doll, given to me by (the parents of) kieko, who was my then-neighbour and sandpit buddy until she went back to japan. i don't think i ever gave the gril doll a name so i'll call her shizuka kawai.

a few years passed and i lost interest in the two dolls, which languished in a box. but one day i got them out again. i was obviously a bit older because i undressed both dolls and drew a penis between bobby shaftoe's legs with a black felt tip, and gave shizuka kawai boobs and some pubic hair. i then dressed them again and put them back in the box, where they no doubt a better time than they were having before, and forgot all about it.

more years passed. the box had long been moved up into the attic and i was probably in my early teens when mum got it down because we had friends staying as houseguests, and they had little kids who wanted toys to play with. i remember the box being emptied onto the floor and one of the kids immediately pulling down bobby shaftoe's blue shorts to reveal this big drawn-on cock. shizuka kawai was then also exposed. i was very embarrassed, although the adults thought it was hilarious.

as this isn't a very sad story, i'll add as a postscript that the dolls had their genitalia erased. they did go on to provide innocent fun for more little children that visited our house, although i don't know what became of them in the end.

Yes, unless you were very precocious and got goldfish or something at a young age, it's basically My First Death. Which is my excuse for crying through bits of Toy Story 2.

I left Baby Smurf in the motel. We had watched Watership Down on TV that night. Double-trauma. Must have been 3 or 4.

I was hospitalized for dehydration for about a week when I was four. On one of the first days, my dad bought me a cool Matchbox Fiat (he had had a Fiat until the year before I was born, when he got hit by a drunk driver). I played with that car every day, but on the last day it was missing. We think the cleaning lady accidentally swept it up.

http://homepage.ntlworld.com/carl.taylor7/Car%20pics/Fiat-131-abarth-white45-matchbox.jpg

Where did you go?

When I was around 3 years old, I had a kind of raggedy, old-timey looking stuffed monkey with rounded eyes that were like black half-marbles. It was very cute and pretty much my favorite toy. One day I brought it to nursery school, and a kid I wasn't particularly friends with asked for it. I said no, but the teacher told me it was important to share, so I reluctantly gave it up. Almost immediately, the kid pulled off one of the eyes. I bawled. To this day, I still trust no other human being.

I have a raggedy old bear, which was given to me as a newborn by my Aunt. My big sister (4 years older)took him from me aged 2, and didn't give him back until I was about 6. Only fessing up after all those years because of my intense belief that the bear was mine.
I have forever held a suspicious and disbelieving attitude towards other peoples honesty and have never quite forgiven my sister for her great toy swindle. Traumatised through fraud and skullduggery.

i'm not gonna read this thread cos i know it's gonna make me really sad. very few things make me sadder than seeing an abandoned toy in the street!

This thread will give you, me, and all of us hope: There is a teddy bear abandoned on my road

I dunno if I can even read this thread, I only have to see the spine of The Velveteen Rabbit on my bookshelf and I feel sad. Sometimes I have to remind myself that that couldn't happen now anyway, and then I think "b-but then it was all for NOTHING!", but at least then I can hatch ridiculous daydreams about rescuing fictional characters in a time machine like the 8-year-old I apparently am inside

srsly I think I get more depressed about bad things happening to pets or even teddy bears etc than about bad things happening to people, which might say something very bad about my psyche, but eh

weird thing given my immense sadness at the mere thought of toy loss: I can't really think of any sad stories of my own toys.

I left my beloved rabbit toy in the Post Office once and probably cried all day but we got it back. I remember being told off for losing a glove on the same day my aunt gave me the pair. And I remember thinking I'd make my Dad breakfast (I don't even know what I thought this would involve, I was too small to reach any of the ingredients, never mind combine them) and getting his favourite mug out and breaking it, which he was nice enough not to be cross about at the time, but now makes me sad to think about 28 years later.

When I was ten, I put a lot of work into building a P-51 model. Sure it was originally a kit, but I went ahead and did all the extra work in painting the exterior plastic, ordering a different decal insignia, about as much extra work as I could possibly put into it as a ten year old could.

A friend of my brother's came by to visit (I was staying with my dad that summer), picked up my model, asked me if the landing gear retracted and without pausing for an answer snapped each landing gear strut off - telling me "well, they do now." Never apologized. It wasn't even a case of "annoying older brother syndrome" since they were both so much older (28-29) than me.

Anyway, his friend went on to be a highly successful brain surgeon (seriously!) and probably saved the lives of lots of people but he's still the unapologetic asshole who broke the plane of a little kid.

I had a Gonzo sticker from the Muppets sticker that I got in my weetbix cereal box. Gonzo was my favorite and it was my most prized possession. I took it to Kindergarten for show and tell and SOME MEAN PERSON STOLE IT

my brother was obsessed with he-man when he was small and Mum gave him a really cool He-Man sword that lit up, and my brother, sister and loved to play with it. one day a friend of Mum's and her two sons came over. one son was older and really cool, but the younger son was MEAN and a jerk. the mean big son was playing he-man with us and broke the sword, snapped the plastic blade in half. I yelled at him and said RAGH YOU BROKE HIS SWORD THAT WAS MEAN and he just sneered at me and said 'pfft just get your Mum to buy him another one' and I wanted to kill him right there

less sad story: I had a teddy bear that had been my best friend since I was born, and when I was about 10 we went to Melbourne for the weekend. I sat Ted on the couch in the lobby while we were taking our bags out to the car, and then forgot him. I cried all the way home when I realized (too late) that I'd left him behind. I guess Mum or Dad called the hotel when we got home and a few days later I got home from school and there was Ted sitting on the front step with a note saying 'I missed you!'
I don't know if the hotel wrote the note or my parents did but it was one of the best days EVER

That's so cute, VegemiteGrrl!

Haha yeah that rules. 've had my ted my whole life - mum was given him when she was pregnant with me. His name is Edward T Bear (me dad's not the most creative person) and I still have him by my bed. I'd be very upset if I lost him, tho he has spent many a day dropped down the side of/under the bed in a pile of dust, admittedly.

Never had a teddy bear. I can't remember much from when I was that young except for my mother disposing my entire Hot Wheels collection without my consent.

How often these days do you surreptitiously sneak into Woolworths and look at the toys aghast that a; aren't they all shite these days and b; WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH I'm too old to buy them for myself now even though I can now afford them! Well?

One day I was walking through the small toy aisle at the grocery store and spotted a Hot Wheels car for sale and had to buy it for myself. Not just any Hot Wheels car, but a VW Golf GTI, which happened to be the car I had just given most of my life savings to buy (well not the GTI, but close enough). It was even the same color. I HAD to have it! You see, Hot Wheels were always the cool cars - Mustangs, Corvettes, Porsches, and the like. All my adult life I could never afford a ride that was even remotely cool enough to be a Hot Wheel; there were never Hot Wheels versions of ten-year-old Ford Escorts. When I learned I was finally driving a car desirable enough for kids to want toy versions of; it was like, that was when I knew I had made it....

for my second birthday, i was given a stuffed siamese cat that i eventually named mur a mur. he had dense, fine, velvety fur, blue plastic eyes and yarn whiskers. his nose was a little yarn 'X' (best part). i kept him close for over a decade, until his grey fur had worn bare, his eyes went missing and he was leaking sawdust from his head.

at that time, when i was thirteen or so, we had a cocker spaniel, a lonely and fearful creature who had developed an unnatural passion for mur a mur. every chance she got, the dog would steal and drag him off to some romantic corner or other for the purpose of wildly lascivious dog-humping. this was sort of funny, especially to people who weren't me, but also distressing. i tried to play off the distress, because i knew i was too old to care about a stuffed cut, but it bugged me more than i let on. it made mur a mur's remaining fur all gross and matted.

one day, the dog had mur a mur trapped under the dining room table, having her way with him. i tried to rescue him, but his head came off in my hand and all the sawdust fell out.