My mother's unmarried sister, Dorothy, was our Santa for toys. One Christmas she gave me a red truck. It was quite a truck, metal not plastic, with rubber sidewall tires. After I played with it a few minutes Mama took it and placed in her trunk, to "save" it. I got to play with that truck very rarely. Often my cousins, or even neighbor boys, would visit and get me to ask mama if we could play with the red truck.
That went on for years. I don't remember if any other toy got that treatment, but I expect that my total time playing with the truck could be measured in minutes rather than hours. As years passed I grew too old to play with trucks, and I gave it as a Christmas gift to my younger brother, Jon. The truck was saved no longer; Jon was never restricted in time playing with it. Finally, it went where all trucks wind up, in the junk yard.
That went on for years. I don't remember if any other toy got that treatment, but I expect that my total time playing with the truck could be measured in minutes rather than hours. As years passed I grew too old to play with trucks, and I gave it as a Christmas gift to my younger brother, Jon. The truck was saved no longer; Jon was never restricted in time playing with it. Finally, it went where all trucks wind up, in the junk yard.
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