Like the red fern.

A broken child is, and always will be. From the dawn, until the end of time.

Sometimes a product of a bad family situation, sometimes just society’s leftovers. Sometimes it’s just the wrong mix of genes.

Try as we might, there’s no prayer for the lost that don’t wish to be found.

A life of wooden things and broken plastics. Of skin that is bare and has been rained on for too long. It’s easy to turn feral, even while being socialized. At times, socialization begs for one to become untamed.

You find yourself offering what you haven’t got, and breaking yourself to get it to them.

But a broken child is, and always will be.

Not all of them are looking for the missing pieces. Not all of them are action figures.

The palace and the plateau.

To look at it, you would never think that it meant much. And mostly, you would be right. A thing like this has no monetary value. You could even believe it has no worth.

But you begin to see something bloom when you place it into the hands of a small child, a small wonder. Eyes shine like diamonds and dimples form from huge grins. Those tiny eager hands attack the object with glee, hungry for the contents. This precocious being knows exactly what it meant to you. And you hope that the same tremors echo through him as well.

Neither the child, or the person watching can really prepare for what it’ll mean, if anything. Something like this is taken in, absorbed fully by the soul carrying it. Or maybe nothing happens, perhaps it just falls in a dull thud to the ground.

The rectangle that contains shape has worn colors. Edges have rounded a bit, and the inside has yellowed, adding an antique quality against the splattered black that defines lives oh so appropriately.

I wasn’t there to see it with my own eyes, but heard about it through broken accents on the phone. That lump that comes from emotion worked its way up my throat. I choked back tears, two parts happiness, one part melancholy.

Before I clicked end on the silver device, I realized true worth and something in me broke. Part of an internal worth was sacrificed by realization.

I hope those brown baby hands of his know how to hold it. I hope that grand mind of his can imagine the scenes. And above it all, I hope that heart of his remembers always, and impacts the way that mine did.

As materialistic as it may be, things like that I never give away. They mean too much and hit too hard to place into someone elses home. I’m a glutton for that thing, a junkie, if you will.

But after hearing about the outcome, and picturing it play out in my own mind, I’m put at ease with my decision.

At least there is one thing at the end of the day that I can say with all certainty that I did right.

Market absurdities.

Today Luke and I had to go to the market. I was sick over this. His wordy excuse, “Umm, get out of the house?” Freaking bastard ruining my unemployment slothery. So we leave and I choke back vomit on the way there.

I decided that since everything made me want to puke I might as well occupy my time with very bad advertisements and ridiculous products.

Here lies the evidence.

Product No. 1: No Name Chicken Breasts with wild rice and cranberry stuffing Sounds like it could be tasty, but it’s a meal in box so I’m sure it’s mostly scraps found on dirty factory floors. But, I may still eat it until I read the brand label. No Name? Seriously, No Name? That’s like eating something without a face.

Product No. 2: Wacky Mac Macaroni It’s a pretty box. It screams, “Hey wanna go ride bikes?” I can totally see why kids throw fits in the store if their mommies don’t get this for them. (Though it doesn’t keep me from making fun of them and/or tripping them.) But there are a couple of things that freak me out. Lets consider the line, Combined with the top quality Cheese Sauce Mix in this package, you will enjoy a more interesting and tastier Macaroni & Cheese Dinner than you’ve ever had before. Hmm, Cheese Sauce Mix? Note, it did not supply us with what kind of cheese is in this LEGENDARY cheese mix, I’m sorry, Cheese Sauce Mix, but basically told us it is liquid chemical crap that happens to be orange. And secondly, more interesting?

Product No. 3: Hamburger Helper Microwave Singles Really, the only thing I have to say about this is that it really depresses me.

Product No. 4: Lipton Citrus Green Tea Luke’s comment: That sign cut off the top of the bottle. It makes it look like a penis. You know, like a fake penis.

Product No. 5: Nestle Abuelita Authentic Mexican Chocolate Drink Mix I’m pretty sure that abuelita means granny in Spanish, which is cool. I liked my Gram’s food and drink. But this Granny freaks me out. Seriously, look closely at her face and tell me it doesn’t scream, I baked Hansel and Gretel! Also, she’s not Mexican. Nestle is a box of liars.

Product No. 6: Stretch and Fun Elmo Elmo kind of scares me in general since he pretty much acts as a child’s first vibrator, but this one seems offensive. I can’t pinpoint if he’s making fun of amputees or cerebral palsy victims. Either way, top that off with a screaming and moaning Elmo, you’re sure to be disturbed. No wonder kids are such fucking offensive bastards.

Product No. 7: Freeze Pops I saw this signage with the less than thrilled children and all I heard in a monotone voice was, “Yeah, I guess I’ll have one mom. Really, I’m thrilled about this. Seriously, I am.” But man did they spice up this display with the upbeat testimonies.

Product No. 8: Fairy Adventure Dora Really I have no complaint about this product. It just supports my theory that Dora is gay man trapped in a lesbian girl’s 5 year old body. Think about it. My gay dads got behind this theory. (No pun intended.)

Product No. 9: Rubber Ducky Because Ernie didn’t make them gay enough as is. They had to put him in a sailor suit. Kind of reminds me of the end of The Hazzards music video Gay Boyfriend.

My birthday is coming up in a couple of days so I took some pictures of toys that I liked. These Magnetix things really rocked my socks off. But of course since it’s a cool toy there’s a recall on them. Luke and I read it and he instantly said, “Man, I wish I had some of these when I was a kid. I would have swallowed the magnets and had my micro-machine cars stick to my belly.” -Yeah, that would have been cool. Hopefully I can convince him to ingest some magnets tonight and hand him some knives.

Then there’s the Flytron Dragonfly. It flies like a real dragonfly! It’s awesome!

And who doesn’t like dancing robots? Especially ones that cook, lasso, and intergalactic your ass. They’re tute.

And finally, a very unflattering picture of me fitting onto a tricycle and pedaling around the store until I got into “trouble”. Luke was angry because he’s a foot and a half taller than me and no longer possesses the skill to fit into Big Wheels to race me. As a way of dealing with my height issues, I made fun of Lou (though I’m changing her name to Eddie) for being shorter than me. I then apologized because she’s a dog and has no control over that. I shut up after the apology, realizing that none of this made sense.

The end.