Geronimo1967
The tin toy doesnt fancy the baby hes supposed to entertain very much when he observes it cover its multi-coloured hoops in drool. No wonder he now flees the length and breadth of the room - with the baby in tottering pursuit. Eventually he finds sanctuary under the sofa - along with a great many of his discarded predecessors, only for the child to topple over - probably slipped in its own dribble - and start to blub. Tinny is really quite a kindly soul and so at risk of life and limb sets off to play. Thing is, after a few seconds of engagement it turns out that the bairn is way more interested in the box. Sound familiar? Perhaps because I was always told by my parents that I, too, always preferred the box to the toy that came from it, thi...