I am reminded of another trip by a reversible Stonehenge cube that Lola spent ages playing with after our dawn viewing of the henge (probably just a giant, neolithic box for discarded toys).

Models of gorillas, elephants and tigers take me straight back to London Zoo in a Proustian rush of memories of overpriced lunch boxes, wildebeest, anteaters and snakes that might be able to speak to Harry Potter. They loved these critters so much that we can’t contemplate throwing any of them away. Is it really 12 years since David Tennant became the Doctor? I recall our walks to primary school explaining how the Tardis travels through time, why River Song might be the Doctor’s wife and why there was no need to be scared of werewolves stalking Queen Victoria.Īlongside Barbie dresses are lots of Sylvanian Families figures and fixtures and fittings. Several crumpled rolls of David Tennant-era Doctor Who stickers make me feel emotional as I think of my elder daughter, Lola, who loved K9, Martha and the Ood. They still might if they look at accommodation prices. Now, my kids want to be human rights lawyers or politicians – back then I remember feeling tearful when they said they wanted to live with Mum and Dad for ever. What was then so vital has been discarded. Everything depended on getting another egg.

I am taken back to the shop on the walk home from school where we used to buy the eggs. Ten years is nothing in terms of a job, but it covers toddler to teenager for a dad Now, each egg holds a round, magnetic draughts counter (the board has disappeared), carefully placed inside during a forgotten playtime with friends. Each contained the parts of a toy figure ready to be assembled. I remember buying zillions of these for my younger daughter, Nell. My first excavations unearth myriad yellow Kinder Surprise eggs.

It’s a time capsule of childhood crazes, family trips and childish consumerism.

Barbie 2017 Memory instaling