It’s the day after Christmas. Here I am in Hawaii with very little to do other than stare blankly at my mother’s cat and inject leftover pie directly into my veins.
My father was up in the attic a few weeks ago and found an old box of My Little Ponies from the late 1980’s, when I was but a five year old pony wielding lass. These ponies… ummm… have seen better days. Hawaii is damp and humid and wrapping ponies in plastic in an attic for 20 years has yeilded My Little Leprosy Ponies and My Litte Decomped Body Ponies.
If you’re a relatively happy adult there is something satisfying about bag of dirty, decayed childhood toys. Acceptance that you are no longer the creature that played with them. The Roman Empire of childhood has crumbled. Unlike the kids who die and their parents keep their rooms as immaculate shrines, you have grown into another being all together, without simple fantasies that life ever stays the same.
If you’re doing it right, this song should be playing in your head.
Anyway, long story short, I took all the My Little Despair Ponies and put them on a dead plant and made a festive Christmas tree! If you’re Jewish, feel free to attach them to menorahs, etc as a craft modifcation.