play dough : a sequel

i opened the container

its vibrant, colorful lid distinguishing it from the rest of the set,

a brand new tub of dough waiting for someone to play with it.

i took a whiff and allowed its scent to fill the air.

it smelled familiar, nostalgic, distinct

almost as if i had smelled this before.

i pulled out the dough

a feeling of euphoria washed over me

i played with it for a while, rolling it in my hand, molding it, shaping it

then i smashed my hand onto the dough, flattening it out, leaving an imprint of a fist.

and just like that, i left it out on the table with chalky residue on my hands that i went to wash off.

so i moved on to the next toy

amused, occupied, just another way to keep me busy,

with not a thought about how the poor play dough was left to dry.

then i found it the next day

dry, cracked, unpliable,

unplayable.

i cried and i whined

“mommy i ruined the play dough!”

my small fingers yearned for something to entertain me

something to grasp to distract me.

so the next day i went to the toy store