* which may or may not exist
So, yesterday I told you all about Quinn’s Christmas list and how he wants all of the things. Jack’s Christmas list is substantially more modest, but equally problematic. He has plans to ask Santa for a very specific toy, a toy that one of his classmates brought to school last week and called a “Hero Factory Elemental Guardian.” Jack was so enamored of it that he drew a picture of it.
See, I googled this, assuming that it would be easy to find, only to discover that not only is this toy as described NOT available and does not seem to exist, it seems to have never existed.
As anyone does when stymied (see what I did there?), I posted a picture on Facebook and begged for help. Friends came back with idea after idea of what this toy could actually be and, under the guise of curiosity, I asked Jack about each one, showing him photos.
Is it a Gormiti Elemental Fusion Mini Guardian Creature? No.
Is is a different Hero Factory figure? No. (And we looked at a bajillion of them.)
Is it an Elemental Hero Clay Guardian? No.
Is it a Yu-Gi-Oh Elemental Hero Flame? No.
It turns out that crowdsourcing a nonexistent toy is futile. I ended up sending an email to the mother of the kid who brought the toy to school. My rambling, lunatic email was made better by the fact that I have never in my life spoken to or corresponded with this woman in my life. Also, I sent the photo you see above and ended with the sentence, “If you don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, that’s okay too.”
I am not very good at interacting with The People.
That was two days ago. So far there is no word.
I fully expect that if this woman decides to open the email from a stranger (me) with the subject heading “Question about one of [kid’s name] toys,” that I will either hear back that she has no idea what I am talking about or will receive a photo of some creature created from 16 separate Hero Factory kits.
Either way I’m screwed. I think it might be time to start talking up other toys—or massage chairs and cash.