Leaning back in a lime-green beanbag and counting my Masters of the Universe figures, I’m distraught.
Several toys are missing: one, in particular, can never be replaced.
And I know where it is.
I need to jump into the mud puddle that claimed Skeletor’s Landshark.
My mother doesn’t believe me.
“I can’t find it.”
“You sure that’s where you last saw it?”
“Did you really dig into it?”
“Yes, Mom, I did.”
Under my M.A.S.K. bed sheets, glow-in-the-dark He-Man jammies aglow, I cry until the mud puddle becomes the sky outside my window.