When I was on the small side, I remember going to a family friend’s house for some birthday party. I was younger than everyone else, so I was really bored. That was, until the presents were opened and one of the toys was a light target shooting game called, QuickFire. It looked amazing and its mere presence killed any of the momentum towards opening further presents. Instead the birthday boy insisted that QuickFire be setup so that he could play with it and his parents obliged. I stood back, outside of the ring of kids who would get turns after a bit and just marveled at this electronic wonder.
Until it is was time for cake.
Everyone moved to the dining room to eat the now cut cake. I remained behind to try to score some time with QuickFire. It was a blast to play, but the problem with the unit was that their was a wire connecting the gun to the target. I guess my spatial reasoning was off, or I was just carried away, but I took a few too many steps back and the thing came crashing down to the floor.
Immediately I was set upon by adults asking me if I was alright. This was quickly followed by the new owner of the QuickFire who burst into tears after seeing his new possession broken on the floor. The rest of the day was a blur. The thing I mostly remember the traumatic crash, the dirty looks from the other party guests and my Mom hugging me and telling me things would be alright. I am not sure how my family made restitution for his loss. My Mother never brought it up again.
I would look at target games like this in catalogs my entire childhood, but because of what happened during that birthday party I never asked for one.
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