Into the depths of history for this tale which happened when I was four.
When the alcoholic disaster that was my biological father abandoned us my Mother was left completely in the lurch. To help make ends meet she cleaned house for a wealthy family who lived in what was essentially a small mansion at the top of Hillgrove.
That in itself presented a challenge as Mum had to push my baby sister’s pram up the steep hill while grimly restraining a terminally inquisitive four year old.
The family whose house we went to had two boys who were a few years older than me and their mother used to give me some really good quality hand-me-down clothes. I was quite possibly the best dressed little boy in the village.
I didn’t see much of the boys as they were both at prep school and only home during the holidays. They were a bit too old to find the company of a four year old entertaining but too young to be given the task of babysitting.
One day when we arrived I was presented with a green plastic toy racing car. There was a label on the bottom of the car so I asked Mummy what it said which turned out to be “Virtually Indestructible”. I asked what that meant and was told I probably couldn’t break it.
I didn’t take that as a challenge, honestly but while I was playing I got distracted by something and put the car on top of a radiator. When it was time to go I remembered the car and ran back to get it.
What I found was an amorphous green lump that no longer looked at all racing car shaped. Surprisingly I didn’t cry, I thought it was funny; so did Mummy and the lady who’d given me the car.
The “virtually indestructible” incident became a standing joke in the family and was mentioned whenever I was given a new toy. Still, on the plus side I learned that plastic melts when it gets hot which is probably a good thing to know.
This is a funny memory!
It’s still one of my favourites
Yes – one of the fundamental lessons in how objects behave!
Mind you – boys themselves are sometimes termed similarly and we all know that they can easily be broken too.
I have to agree with your sombre comment. None of the adults I had contact with ever stopped to think that there might be invisible injuries; the kind that don’t heal.