A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about my grandson Ben and a little stuffed animal he “won” in one of those Claw Toy Machines… aka (in my household) The Loser Machine.
I think I totally caved into The Loser Machine hype when I wrote: I now think all of those stuffed animals in the enticingly shiny, mirrored quarter-gobbling machine filled with colorful stuffed animals that you catch with a slippery claw one time in a zillion are actually worth the visit and all of the quarters once-in-awhile.
Well, that once-in-awhile happened again.
This past Friday night.
With 2 more grandchildren… 10-year old Taylor and 8-year old Andrew.
It had been an emotional week for me. My 86-year old Mom had had a complicated surgery on Wednesday morning, and my mind was both light with relief at how well the surgery had gone, but heavy with worry at the recovery process.
On Friday evening, my husband and I happily and joyously ended up at our local restaurant with the enticingly menacing Loser Machine in its lobby… with Taylor and Andrew.
Of course, they both wanted to try their hands at “the machine.”
So… after dinner, Barry pulled out 8 quarters and told Taylor and Andrew that they each had 2 turns at “the machine.”
(You know, for those once-in-awhile tries at grabbing a little stuffed animal with a claw lined with something akin to buttah.)
Taylor was up first.
And Taylor had her eye on a little black velvet cat in a purple outfit… a perfect little purple iridescent Halloween outfit with designs of happy pumpkins, cats, witches.
Taylor dropped her 2 quarters in the quarter slots.
The lights danced.
She began to move “the claw”… gently toward the Halloween cat because too much claw swing will most certainly ruin your chances of grabbing a prize.
Time stood still for those few moments.
Taylor pressed the button.
The claw dropped.
It grabbed the Halloween cat.
I fully expected that teaser of a claw to open wide and zip back up with its prize of NOTHING.
But the claw gripped tightly onto that Halloween cat and drew it up and over to the plastic shoot.
Even then, I waited for the “other shoe” to drop…
But the claw dropped that little Halloween cat into that plastic shoot.
And out it came!
Taylor. Was. Mesmerized.
Then it was Andrew’s turn.
Poor little guy. NOTHING. Not even with the same methodical approach as Taylor had taken.
Taylor again. NOTHING.
Andrew again. NOTHING but dancing lights, a buttah claw and NOTHING.
So how does my title make any sense at all?
Taylor asked me to bring that little black velvet Halloween cat with the purple outfit to Great-GrandmaRita in the hospital… to keep her company.
This act of love and generosity after WINNING that almost-once-in-a-lifetime Loser Machine prize was the greatest WINNING of all.
The very next day, my Mom was moved to a rehab facility, where that happy little Halloween cat was lovingly received…
… and sits right up on her night stand in its place of honor!
Love you, Mom! Love you, Taylor!
I think it’s the best and happiest and most generous and appreciated 50 cents Barry and I have ever spent!