by Deb Baker/Hannah Reed
I'm flashing back to 1998. My daughter was eight years old, my son was nine. Guess what they wanted for Christmas? If only all they wanted for Christmas was their two front teeth. But no. They had to have Furby. That was the beginning of a long rein of terror in our home. Those two Furbys learned to speak our language quickly, not exactly fluent English but they were able to get their point across - they were in charge.
I shiver at the memory of those long ago nights after my kids went to bed. That was when those Furbys really came alive and terrorized me with incessant demands for attention. Who knew where the kids had left them to work their evil - sometimes one would be lurking in the family room or the kitchen or...or in any room in the house. And the worse part, the absolute most horrifying part was that they had NO OFF button. Really, it's true. What crazy person would create something like that!
Well, those days are behind us.
Or...wait...are they? Oh, no!!
40 million Furbys later, I've learned that they have been resurrected from the dead. A new generation of Furby is on the move, plotting to take over control of our lives, this time possibly forever.
And they are cuter than ever. What innocent child could resist this tempting little number?
Just imagine if you will, today, fifteen years of more advanced technology. I don't want to thing about what Furby is capable of. And I suspect this one, like its predecessor, doesn't have an off button either.
Do NOT let this 'thing' into your homes.
Die, Furby, Die!