You’ve all heard of Magic Nursery Babies, right?
God I wanted one. Like so bad.
Thinking back to Christmas’ past I remember every time that advert came on tele I would make sure that everyone in the vicinity knew how much I wanted one of these amazing dolls. I mean come on, you put their nightgown in water and it turns into a cute outfit and lets you know if your brand new baby is a boy or a girl – what young lass in her right mind growing up in the late 80’s/early 90’s wouldn’t want that?!
A couple of my friends had them. Some bitches were even lucky enough to have two! Thinking back, I actually feel bad for one of my closest friends (we’ll call her R) because every time we went to her house I would head straight for her bedroom to play with the Magic Nursery Baby and read the booklet that came with it. I loved that little booklet, maybe even more than the doll. It started off with a “congratulations on your new baby!” and explained how to look after it, had a section where you wrote down details about your new baby and had gorgeous illustrations. I would literally sit there reading the dammned thing from start to end, savoring every last page, while poor R looked on, waiting for me to finish so we could play games together. This actually happened every time I visited her house! I’m pretty sure she even took to hiding it, because all of a sudden it was “lost” and I never got to read that book again. I may have even insisted that I help her look for it, but the details are a little hazy.
Every night after I was tucked up in bed I would wish and hope for one of those dolls for Christmas. Although I’m not religious (attending Sunday school totally doesn’t count) I’m sure I made deals with the big man himself that I would be really good and not argue or fight with my little brother if I could just please have a Magic Nursery Baby. Please?!
Christmas Eve was always my last chance as I lay awake thinking about how good I had been the past year, how I didn’t fight with my brother unless he started it, I was teachers pet at school and this was the only thing I really and truly wanted for Christmas.
God it was hard come Christmas morning, after rushing to the lounge to see the tree with all the presents crammed underneath. I would do a quick scan to see which were for me, check out the shapes, looking for a box about the size of a Magic Nursery Baby. I would then run back down the hall to wake my brother up and then to wake my parents. Of course we’d have to eat breakfast and wait for them to shower and dress before we could open anything. Talk about torture!
Finally, finally it was time. With each present I eagerly ripped the paper from, I would smile and gush about how great it was, all the while hoping that the next one would be a Magic Nursery Baby all of my own. The pile quickly reduced, discarded wrappings littered the floor, and I checked to make sure that there really were no more presents to open, while my folks started to tidy things up and my brother hooted and hollered, playing with his new whatever-kid-brothers-like all over the place.
Yeah, I got some wonderful things, don’t get me wrong. We were always spoiled at Christmas and totally lucky to have such wonderful parents, a roof over our heads and enough food to keep a small army satisfied, but geez it feels like the end of the world, doesn’t it?!
I know for my family, a Magic Nursery Baby was an expensive gift that we just couldn’t afford. I also know that if I had received this wondrous doll for Christmas, I probably wouldn’t have received anything else and my Mum is a stickler for making sure all us kids get the same amount of presents (or at least the same amount of money spent) so the logistics would have been ‘mare-ish at such a busy time of the year.
I guess now that I am older, I totally appreciate the fact that I didn’t get exactly what I wanted. I have now learned that money really doesn’t grow on trees (trust me, I’ve checked) and there are way more important things in life other than what you did or didn’t get for Christmas. I know I still had a wonderful day spending time with my family, watching movies and playing cricket until we’d all but fallen asleep in various states of food-coma. I was lucky and grateful for what I did have, as I know there are hundreds of kids out there way less fortunate than I was, even though it felt like I had been totes ripped off by old Saint Nick.
So Santa, if you’re out there – my wish still stands 20 years on – a Magic Nursery Baby for Christmas would be just lovely.