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Oh how we all dreamed of owning our very own Furby. A Furby whom we could teach words to, feed and love. Then those who did get them resorted to locking them in a cupboard in the hope that they’d finally, finally be quiet and we realised we were better off without one.
All we wanted to do during the festive season was crush up some ice and cover it in brightly-coloured sugar. Was that too much to ask? Was it? Apparently, yes. This is no doubt because our parents, and indeed Father Christmas, knew we’d use it once, get brain freeze and never touch it again.
Keeping a tiny, computerised animal alive was the big responsibility 90s kids wanted. It was a double-edged sword though. Getting one was exciting, but once you had it, even going to bed was a huge concern. What if he got hungry in the night? What if his toilet situation needed attending to? What if he actually died while you were lying around in your Rugrats pyjamas..?
[Image via wikicommons]
The baby ate the cherries. She actually ate the cherries. It was a marvel of modern engineering (OK, a quick release button) and graced many a letter to Santa.
My-oh-my, was there anything more exciting than a brand new sheet of brightly-coloured sticker earrings? Sure they’d fall off moments after putting them on, but boy did we want them.
I’m told by sources close to Santa that getting hold of these mini Power Rangers was near impossible. The mere whisper of ‘in stock’ had people driving hours to off-the-beaten-track toy shops. Had a couple extra? You could basically turn dealer at the school gates. In short, if you didn’t get one, it’s time to let the grudge go.
Santa’s vision must have gone all blurry with the number of requests for a Thunderbirds Tracy Island. Thankfully Blue Peter’s Anthea Turner showed us all how to make our own out of cardboard and paper and saved Christmas* (*skills with papier-mâché depending).
Deep down, we knew this was a long shot. But after an afternoon spent flicking through the Argos catalogue, why not chuck it on the wish list? It’s a wish list, after all.
Why have regular furniture when you can sit on a wobbly pile of plastic, filled with the air of an angry parent who is so puffed out they’re now hallucinating…?
Not getting a Dream Phone board game was like, the worst. It was as if Santa was telling you you wouldn’t meet your Prince Charming anytime soon and would be relegated to hours deciding which dating website to sign up to later in life… ahem.
The smell of burning rubber was on many a kid’s mind at Christmas, hoping as they were to unwrap a brand new Scalextric set. It was easy to spot if you’d got it: the box being bigger than most people’s beds.