Bloody Kids

[poliphilo]

Someone just gave me a Kinder Egg. You know, one of those chocolatey things with an ingenious plastic toy inside. When the kids were small I used to buy them Kinders so I could build up my collection of Kinder toys. They were weird, surreal, they were like things out of Hieronymous Bosh. But the kids had other ideas. They wanted to play with them. they wanted to disassemble them. They wanted to lose the constituent parts. Bah. Childhood is wasted on kids.

My new Kinder toy is a fat-faced queen- in fact she's all face- she doesn't have a body- on rollers. You can push her around- whee! Ain't that amazing! I'm gonna keep her on the mantlepiece.

And you! Yes, I'm talking to you! You can keep your sticky little fingers to yourself!

Comments

[huskyteer.livejournal.com]

I never saw the point of the collectible figurines that come in some Kinder Eggs. I want something you have to put together yourself. So I always shake the eggs to make sure they sound as if they contain several components.

On my desk I have a motorbike, an orange car and a pink fish in a turban riding on a stingray.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

This all sounds very surreal, like something out of Alice in Wonderland.

A fat-faced-queen face on rollers on the mantelpiece?

You eat the chocolate and hopefully not the interior surprise?

What happens if you accidentally swallow a wheel off the queen?

Fascinating.

[pickwick.livejournal.com]

I got a little telephone with feet from my Kinder Egg yesterday. I was quite upset, cos my boyfriend got a far cooler Evil Mole on a big chair with a red button.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

A pink fish in a turban- oh wow!

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

What you get is a chocolate egg. Inside the egg is a plastic container and inside the egg is a toy. As huskyteer points out, the best toys require some assembling. If you follow the instructions carefully it's unlikely that you'll eat the queen's wheels

I think Kinder is a German firm- and clearly the same national imagination is at work as produced the Tales of Hoffman and the Brothers Grimm.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I'm going to have to start buying them again! I'm going to have to build up a new collection!

What happens when you press the mole's red button?

[sorenr.livejournal.com]

Well; these days Kinder is actually owned by Ferrero (as in "You're spoiling us, Mr. Ambassador...") of Italian origin.

[pickwick.livejournal.com]

It doesn't press, unfortunately. Maybe you have to wait for the easter kinder eggs for that.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Ah, so my mental image of a production-line manned by svart-elves in the depths of the Black Forest may be a little out of date....

[sorenr.livejournal.com]

I apologise for robbing you of your illusions... Think Pinochio-style Italians instead! (With / without strings...)

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Driven on by a cruel ringmaster-type with big mustachios and a whip. Yes, it all makes sense....

[sorenr.livejournal.com]

I apologise for robbing you of your illusions... Think Pinochio-style Italians instead! (With / without strings...)

[morrison-maiden.livejournal.com]

Childhood is wasted on kids.

Hehe, too true. When you grow out of childhood, the toys you played with are suddenly these precious gems you need to hold onto. I'm really fascinated by a lot of the current toys that are out there too. I guess I probably broke some of my toys when I was little, but I love to collect them now :)

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

For some reason when I was a kid it didn't matter that toys got broken. I treasured patched and hairless teddy bears and one-legged toy soldiers. The more ruinous they were the more character they seemed to have.

[morrison-maiden.livejournal.com]

Actually, I know what you mean. When I was about 7 or 8, I had this little stuffed dalmation puppy, which I so cleverly dubbed- Puppy. Eventually, his head sort of ripped off, and later on I continued to play with his detached head! Lol, I was so strange ^_^

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I- equally imaginative- had a thing called Mouse. He was about two inches long. One day he got run over by the lamn mower. My Mum patched him up as best she could and I loved him all the more.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

I had a brown teddy bear with only one button eye, and someone sewed an eyepatch on him for me (why not another button? Someone was being whimsical, I guess). He was as flat as a pancake from being hauled around everywhere. I think I called him Brownie.