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8.10.11

The invisible thundercat



My birthday morning, age 7...
In an infinitely stupidity move, my parents hand me my birthday present 15 minutes before I'm picked up for school. I don’t even remember opening it. I just remember standing their, in mom and dad's room. Grey summer school uniform cleanly pressed, running my hands along Tygra’s whip. 
That blue was so vivid. The orange so perfect. It  became the definitive standard for any blue or orange I’ve ever seen since. Ask me to close my eyes and describe a cloudless sky on a hot day. Ask me what orange I picture in the late afternoon as the sun sets over the hill.  I will tell you 'Tygra blue', I will say 'Tygra orange'.

I got zero minutes of play-time with Tygra before being forced to leave. It was the longest school day I ever remember having, so long in fact that i can't actually remember coming home and playing with him.

It’s funny how such small, seemingly insignificant events to the adult eye can become such profound and confusing memories for kids. 

I don’t have any other  memories of playing with him, just that one quick moment. The one I can see when I close my eyes. Those precious few seconds before school and that feeling: owning the blue thundercat that can turn invisible, is their anything cooler?

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