As a child, I always had a new toy or item that caught my interest. I grew attached to all the cheap bells and whistles that came with them. I used to drain their battery power faster than cowards run for cover. One thing I slowly learned to accept was that more often than not, I would never get my batteries replaced.
There were simply too many toys to keep up with. Whether I got the full use of the toy or was just unlucky, leaving the toy on in the toy box to find it completely drained by the time it was rediscovered. A few exceptions would be the few toys I would grow especially fond of, including but not limited to Gameboys, keychain lasers, and walkie talkies.
This inevitable cycle constantly reminded 6 year old Joe that no matter how awesome a toy might be, it was bound to run out of batteries. If I was lucky, I'd get them replaced once or even twice, but in the long run, these toys weren't going to last forever.
Learning this lesson would become a crucial part of surviving my childhood. A home life that would be filled with empty promises and overflowing with disappointment. A household that even on the greatest of days was tainted by the thin layer of impending doom, but we learned to enjoy things while they lasted and accepted it when good things just ran out of batteries.
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