Wait a minute, Mr Postman

Today


I felt rather jolly to be invited to the birthday party of a friend's daughter. She'll be two and I've promised to  be very helpful. I've made a little dress to take her and I hope she'll like it.

Being at that party (more an accident of geography than anything else) means that I will miss that of one of my great nieces who is three on the same day. I made her a pressie too and posted it yesterday. I've made sure that she is the addressee, because when you're little, there's nothing quite so exciting as receiving some post addressed to you rather than your parents. I posted it early to make sure that it would arrive in time.

In My Day

Becky just loved her Sindy Dolls when she was little. They came in a great variety of styles - some had pink hair or sparkly outfits. One, I remember, had styleable hair that you could pull from the crown to make it longer.  Becky was rather inclined to take scissors to her Sindys' hair which, since hairstyling was never her thing, led to some odd results. You could buy endless outfits for her and a range of lifestyle accessories. Becky's bedroom was almost entirely taken up by the Sindy house.

1986, when we lived in Southampton, was at the height of this craze. As Becky's ninth birthday approached we searched for new and exciting additions to the collection that wouldn't reduce our floor space much further. The day before her birthday we were in Woolworth's and saw just the thing: Sindy hospital. This consisted of a miniature hospital bed with all the accoutrements; stethoscope, earphones, temperature chart, an X-ray screen which lit up and a number of stick-on transfers to complete the illusion.

We smuggled this object home and opened it up so that we could put the pieces together. Alas! There were a number of smaller pieces missing; no transfers, for one thing plus a couple of other omissions. We phoned Woolworth's. They were very helpful, but we'd bought the last one in stock. They could order another one, they said. Would take about a week. "But her birthday's tomorrow!" I wailed. Woolworth gave us contact details for the manufacturers.

It was by now about four pm. I rang Pedigree toys and explained my predicament. They could certainly send replacement parts free of charge, but couldn't guarantee that they would arrive by the next day. It was the best I could do so I agreed and got on with the job of wrapping gifts and making cake which wasn't so easy with crossed fingers.

The next morning, in traditional fashion, we laid the breakfast table with flowers, cards and presents. Becky was led in to see the candle-lit cake. After she'd blown out the candles she started to open her gifts, including the (unknown to her yet) incomplete Sindy hospital. She was never one to rush the card and gift opening process. Just as she finished and I was preparing to explain about the missing Sindy parts, the doorbell rang. There stood the beautiful, lovely postman. "Parcel for Miss Rebecca Barrett" he announced. There it was, arriving in the nick of time. Not just the missing parts but a full set, giving her an extra bed, X-ray screen and much more. The potential for tears turned into extra joy and the hospital gave her pleasure for years to come.

At least she wasn't into Barbie which might have necessitated a call to the US and unavoidable disappointment. Now, I just have to hope that my great-niece actually likes the gift brought by the postman!
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