Remember when we were kids, and we all had one of these, but each one was distinctly different? And no matter how many parts came in the box (which wasn’t too many, to be honest), we each had our favorite way of dressing them up?
I want a Mr. Potato Head.
My friend Lisa (affectionately known to me as “Schmoo”, from that late 70s- early 80s Scooby Doo sidekick) is always cautioning me to be careful when I say things like this. I don’t know what she’s worried about. Not enough people read this Blog (yet) to really inundate me with my material must-have’s. I’ve yet to receive any stuffed frogs or even a lottery ticket. Of course, it’s also come to my attention that I haven’t always blatantly said “I want…” So in case you missed the writing between the lines, I want stuffed frogs. Lottery tickets. Kitchen accessories by the boatload. Not that I expect others to provide for me. But if I won an endless gift card, these are the things I would spend some of it on. I’m just sayin’…
And, yes: I want a Mr. Potato Head. I want lots of them. Lots of pieces. Lots of manipulative little pieces to make him up however I want, because he won’t complain. Who could ask for a better man?
There’s a store in Disneyland’s California Adventure called Engine Ears Toys. For a flat fee you can purchase a container and stuff it as full as you like of Mr. Potato Head pieces and parts. As long as you can close the container properly, you can fill it with anything from the Mr. Potato Head open piece bins. It’s awesome. They have everything: basic parts, specialty pieces, and exclusive bits.
Every time I visit the Park, I’m so tempted to grab a bucket, a body, and start stuffing.
I think it would be fun for Nippers to have an office companion. One that would serve as an entry warning. If Mr. Potato Head looks angry, you can bet my writing isn’t going well. When Dot comes in to see how I’m doing, I can just point to his glasses and book and she’ll know I’m in the middle of something. During break time, I can have him sunning on the beach (hey, at least someone in this household deserves a decent tan!). When I’m on a roll, he’ll smile happily from his corner.
Of course, he’d get lonely so pretty soon I’d have to provide him with a Mrs. Potato Head. Now that would be fun. Lips. Eyeshadow. Flowers. Hats. Yeah. I could have a lot of fun with Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head. [Would that be the Family “Potato Heads” or “Potatos Head”?]
And every time I went to Disneyland, I could add a few more new pieces to their wardrobes. Let’s face it, some spectacular outfits are now available. And what other creature do you know where you could replace an ear for an arm or an eye for a foot?
Remember all the giggles and laughs we used to have at our own sillyness? How many times our parents would roll their eyes at our creations? How our friends would manipulate their own to say, “Yours is good, but look at mine!”
I’d hide his pieces throughout the house and go on a Treasure Hunt. I’d use him for a piggy bank. I’d make him spy on Dot every now and then. He’d be the Mascot of the House. I can see it now: “Mr. Potato Head of Bedford Manor”.
Yeah.
I really want a Mr. Potato Head.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
