When I was very very young....
...and on holiday somewhere on the coast of dear old Blighty, staying in some holiday camp being beaten by buckets of pissing, biblical rain, being pushed around in my pushchair in 4 inches of water, I spotted something... Out of the corner of my eye, amidst the greyness and practically Russian misery there was something shiny, bright and colourful. It span ever so fast in the wind, it did. It was one of those little plastic windmill style things, you know, the ones on the yellow plastic stick which spin in the wind? One of them.

"Mummy, can I have one of them?"

Looking down, with rain beating down into her sopping wet hair and blinking against the splashback from the handlebar of the pushchair, "No son".

At the time, I was disappointed. It was only when I remembered the whole incident as one, single conceptual bundle some years later, in year 6 at primary school that I, for no outwardly apparent reason, burst into a fit of non-negotiable tears. I never told them why I cried for a simple reason which is, even after all these years, I still don't know why it made me cry.
( MeekMan Trying to reinvent the toaster since, Sat 28 Jun 2008, 13:28, closed)

I ALWAYS wanted one of them
and never got one either. I did the wailing immediately, though.
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Sat 28 Jun 2008, 16:27, closed)

Weird how these things get to you so long after.
For some reason I've never understood, I feel terribly sad, almost heart-breakingly so, when I hear the 'Button Moon' theme.
Very odd as I can't put my finger on why.
( Colonel Boris beer is small here, Sat 28 Jun 2008, 21:34, closed)

"Non-negotiable tears"
Awesome phraseyology.

*steals*
(KittyOHara is a master corsetier since 1875, Tue 1 Jul 2008, 14:13, closed)