As they tore off that last bit of paper they saw before them that wonderful blue remote controlled monster truck they’ve been dreaming about for years. This was going to be the best Christmas ever.
The room would have been cleared and the furniture moved back to make space, but when the forward button was pushed in that opening game against the Stormers back in February, nothing moved.
There it stood, shiny and mean just like in the shop window, but dead as a dodo.
“Daddy!” they would have cried, “the box says that batteries are not included.” The Grinch would have ignored them.
“It’s still a young car, just give it time,” he tried to mislead them. Then came the inevitable: “Just wait until we get home, it’ll work there.”
“But, Daddy, batteries…” And then finally the truth: “That thing cost a fortune, I’m not spending another cent on it. I don’t care what you think.”
