Pat McDermott: toys good, bad, and madly musical

Dusting off the family toys for the grandkids brings back memories both fond and fearsome.

Our little grandsons Finnegan and Luca are coming to play, and they’ll be here soon. The corridor outside our door is something of an echo chamber, so we’ll hear them coming. So will everyone else in the building.

I check the “emergency treat” supply in the fridge and dig out our tattered but much-loved collection of children’s books. There’s everything from Five Go Off in a Caravan to The Little Prince.

“I didn’t know we still had The Little Prince,” said the MOTH (Man Of The House). “I thought we’d read it so often it threw itself out a window to get away!”

“You’re thinking of Guess How Much I Love You,” I said.

The wooden ark and all the animals were in a box in the hall cupboard. The box was behind five suitcases, a carton of red wine, a stack of family photos and my mother’s collection of elderly china plates. “I didn’t know we still had the ark,” said the MOTH.

Mr Noah, Mrs Noah and all the animals not only survived the great flood of centuries ago, but 25 years with the McDermotts. They’re in good shape despite being left in the rain and buried in the sand pit. They were always a hit on Play Date days.

Once a week when our children were young, my friends and I left our messy houses to find tea and sympathy in someone else’s messy house.

On Play Date day, nobody dressed for success. We wore jeans or shorts and thongs. Shirts opened for easy breast feeding and sometimes those shirts had stains on them. We were up and down sorting out quarrels, feeding bubs and changing nappies. Everyone had a turn on the swings and no one was allowed to drown in the wading pool.

In between, we laughed and cried over chocolate slice, Anzac biscuits and endless cups of tea. We didn’t just allow whining, moaning and gossiping – we insisted on it! We also compiled a “bad toy” list. We did it when, one day for 20 uninterrupted minutes, everyone was playing nicely in the sandpit.

The Bad Toy List

• Dolls that cry and wet their nappies (you have a baby for that).

• Slime (someone will inevitably think it’s salad dressing).

• Ant farms (plenty in the kitchen) • Plastic building blocks (they breed at night and hurt when you step on them).

• Toys that talk or sing. If you let It’s a Small World (After All) into your head, it never goes away.

Our family’s only remaining musical toy is a teddy bear. He’s spending a well-earned retirement behind the beach towels in the linen cupboard.

“Don’t turn him on,” warned the MOTH. “Remember it took me two years to un-hear that song!”

But I thought Bear looked lonely and a little sad, and Finn and Luca would love him. I pressed the button.

Bear nodded his head. Then he shuffled his feet. Suddenly he began to sing in a tiny, tinny voice.

“It’s a world of laughter/A world of tears/It’s a world of hopes/And a world of fears/There’s so much that we share/ That it’s time we’re aware/It’s a small world after all…”

Our granddaughter, Audrey, says it’s one of her favourite songs because it is a small world and we should be looking after it.

I took Bear’s battery out and put him back in the cupboard. Some nights I think I hear him singing. I know the MOTH does. I’ll bet you’ll be humming it for a while now too.