She had warned me upwards of 15 times that it would be the greatest place on earth, but I couldn't truly understand the world of "scoopable toys" until I was there.
Behold, Heaven's pearly gates:
I'm pretty sure all of my photos are blurry because I was clammy-handed and shaking with excitement, but it was too over-the-top beautiful wonderful amazing to not share it with you all. Get a fucking load of this:
Right?! Toys. Tiny, fun-sized containers of toys, with a separate section for plastic toy animals.
It was at this point that boy on the way out gave me a gape-jawed look of jealousy and sadness for not being allowed to ransack a toy store like I was so clearly currently doing. Sucker.
A mannequin head that my boyfriend quickly banished to the back of the closet (it will resurface in hat season, just you wait) and the HAPPIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD, who just so happens to be $210 poorer.
It's funny, I've never like more of an adult than when using a shiny gold credit card to buy an overflowing basket full of knick-knacks and plastic dinosaurs. Can you even imagine being a six-year-old and finding out that would be a possibility as a grown-up? I wouldn't have been scared of the skirtsuit-filled world of business i envisioned in my childmind had I known I could still make my simple dreams come true. And to think, if only I was born decades earlier, I could have gone crazy at a Toys-R-Us to stockpile Baby Sitters Club dolls and act out each book alone in my bedroom while cutting out Kristi and MaryAnne because clearly they were just getting in the way of Claudia and Stacey's glory, am i right?!?
Anywho, be a doll (heh) and help me write it all off on my taxes by popping by my store. I've got a slug ring and a snail one as well on the way, so heavens to Betsy, this shit's about to get crazy.