Let's bring back the good old days, when dad went out in a blizzard on Christmas Eve, spent six hours standing on line, and fought off three crazed 80's moms with triangular metal earrings to get me Pauly Jason Cabbage Patch Kid. At least that toy resembled a human. Sorry Muhammad Ali, but my dad is the greatest.
As a grandfather now, Dad says I need to make my kids more afraid of me, (as they climb on his lap and box his ears). I know he's right. Maybe if I buy one of these yucky things, that will make me scarier. Problem solved, dad. Thank you, China!
3 comments:
My Cabbage Kid's name was Cliff Edward, I called him Cliffy and my brothers friends established a organized crime organization called, CPK (Cabbage Patch Killers). I had to put Cliffy in the witness protection program.
That looks like something I would have enjoyed chewing when I was a puppy. I got in too much trouble for doing things like that though so now I am afraid of baby toys. Sounds like a lot of money for a chew toy.
Page was just putting a diaper on Andre Thomas, my baldie, not preemie Cabbage Patch Kid. I still can't believe that my parents got those dolls for me and my sis!
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