Hit Me - Part I

It stood there, partially inflated, looking like a careless, unfinished creation of god. The father had gone to answer a call, turning the air-pump off. Soon, the lopsided plastic mouth would be sporting a broad, ever-obliging smile; but for the time being, it had a sad, forlorn expression of suppressed, helpless anguish. The father returned in a moment, to finish off the half-done job. Rapidly, the face morphed into the usual obligatory delight. The body assumed its plump, inviting proportions. Emblazoned boldly on its chest were the words “HIT ME” in bright red and the father called on his three-year-old to inaugurate proceedings with his latest purchase; one which would ensure peace of mind at home, and lots of playful activity for his favorite child. The three-year old trundled into the room, took a look at his new plaything, gave it a playful shove, and seeing it pirouette and totter in the most helpless fashion, all the while sporting its usual apologetic gleefulness, fell in love with it almost instantly.