Un-Happy Meal
By: Debbie Farmer

Nowadays, most fast food toys are referred to fondly as "junk".  And that, according to just about any parent, is sugar coating it.   

The latest addition to my children's toy collection is a six-inch plastic robot arm.  Now I know this doesn't make sense, but those of you who have ordered a kid's meal at a fast food restaurant recently know exactly what I'm talking about.

The last time we went I foolishly didn't pay attention to what the current children's toy was until after we ordered our food and brought it to the table. Then I looked at my children's meal as they took it out of the bag: a hamburger, a bag of fries -- and a right arm in a plastic bag.

"Cool," my four-old son said, holding it up.

At first I thought it must be a mistake.  Then I noticed the model of a full robot in the display case.  Apparently, this toy was too big to fit into the bag all at once, so it came in pieces and I'd have to return at least more five times to get a complete body - six, if I wanted the matching hat.

Now, this probably wouldn't be a problem for my more organized friends.  But
knowing me, I'd lose the arm, end up with the ten legs sticking into a torso, and have to explain to my children why they had a Picasso instead of a robot.   And what if I already missed something crucial like "upper body day" and my only hope of getting one was to spend hours lurking in the play area rooting around in the bottom of the ball pit?

Let me tell you, things sure aren't what they used to be.   It seems like only yesterday when you could pull into a gas station and get a whole set of international dolls with all of the necessary appendages at once.  Nowadays, most fast food toys are referred to fondly as "junk".  And that, according to just about any parent, is sugar coating it.   These are the things like a wind-up log on wheels, or a plastic Smurf in a bunny suit, that end up living inside the recliner or underneath the good sofa until your children eventually dig them out to throw at each other. 

Oh, occasionally there is a big mistake and you get something useful -- like
when my daughter got a stamp dispenser with her chicken nuggets.  I was
excited because at first I thought this token of usefulness and practicality
was the start of a whole new trend in the fast-food industry. However, since no  one else in the neighborhood had one, I have a hunch the cashier had suddenly realized they were all out of glow-in-the-dark troll finger puppets, grabbed the first thing she saw on the back counter, and tossed it into the bag.

But now there is a whole new line of fast food toys that I will refer to as
"No-matter-how-many-burgers-you-buy-your-kids-will-never-have-the-complete-
set, sucker" category.

So I did the only thing I could think of: I went home and called my friends
with children.

"I'll give you an arm for a torso or a leg," I said to my friend Lisa.  "And
I'll throw in a Oscar Mayer hot dog whistle and a talking stuffed
Chihuahua."

"Right or left arm?"

"Right."

"What does the Chihuahua say?"

"I don't know," I said. "It only speaks Spanish, but my daughter can
translate."

"Deal!"

Then it occurred to me that with a little luck and persistence, I might be
able to trade my way up to a whole robot.  So I quickly hung up the phone
and dialed my friend Julie.

And, as I waited for her answer the phone, I realized that it wasn't so hard
to beat the system after all.

I just hoped that next week's toy wasn't a five hundred piece jigsaw puzzle.
***
Announcing the "Best of Family Daze" e-book!  30 hilarious columns about the chaos of raising a family plus an extra column on self-syndication for writers. Get your copy today at: http://www.familydaze.com

Related Articles:

My Mother the Spy
I firmly believe my mother is a spy. Not the run of the mill, garden variety snoop, but a hard core, James Bond-rivaling agent of intrigue and defender of national security.