My Fisher Price Airplane

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is. The surface is cold, almost as if the airplane had been lonely the past thirteen years waiting for that little three-year old boy to hold it again. The exterior of the plane is as smooth a newborn baby except for a few deep scratches here and there. I place the plane back on the table and push it around a little bit for old time’s sake. The wheels make a grumbling sound as I push it back and forth in front of me. The thousands of landings it did while I was a young child took their toll on the priceless antique.
I remember the Christmas day that I got the plane like it was last week. It was all wrapped in bright green wrapping paper with a red ribbon. The ribbon caused me quite the struggle being that I was only three. After what seemed like hours of unwrapping, I opened the package to reveal what would once become my most beloved toy. Little did my mom know at the time that the plane would one day become her worst nightmare. I would run around the house for hours ...

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