I don't know why I had the sudden urge to hop onto Ebay and look for a vintage Tonka Grader toy. Maybe it was the sudden longing for a cherished childhood memory. I actually found one that resembled the toy I had when I was growing up in the late 70's. I initially asked for an Excavator toy because I was so much into construction toys at that time. When my mom came home she brought with her the Tonka Grader toy instead because she couldn't find an excavator.
Still, I loved that toy so much and spent countless hours outside our house playing with that in the dirt. There was a knob in the back that allowed you to steer the front wheels. The plow's angle could be adjusted by changing its notch's position. The frame was made out of metal while the tires were made out of plastic along with the engine and rear grill details. The exhaust at the back was actually soft and rubbery like. Looking at this toy right now makes me remember the squeaking of its metal axles at it rolled along the dirt road. As well as the click clacking of the plastic tires on the gravel.
Sadly I lost this toy when I left our home to study in another city as there was a dearth of good schools in the place where my Dad worked. At that time we didn't have a house of our own and usually just rented. As we were about to move out to another rented home, my mother left our toys in my grandmother's house for safe keeping. When I came back it was all gone, probably played with and destroyed by some other kid or given away. I guess as a kid, adults will usually have less respect for the stuff that you own. I know that my parents regularly gave my stuff away, just give an inkling that you've grown tired of it and you'll find out come summer time that that stuff is gone. I circumvented that by regularly interspersing within my monthly letters to my mother questions as to how the stuff I cherished were doing...no emails yet back then *snicker*
There was a time when my wife wanted to throw some of my son's old toys out already. I put a stop to that and told her the slight resentment I developed against my parents for not respecting my property. The point I was driving at is that what may be of no value to you may mean the world to another person. Its a fear too that I don't want my son to cultivate any of the petty hatred and distrust I once had for my parents. Letting go of something would have been much easier if they had asked me beforehand if they could give it away. Had we done that, we could have saved from having to deal with some terse and drama filled movements during family dinners *snicker*
