In the 1970's like other kids in Denmark, I wore flares, danced to Abba and collected Smurfs.
After a few years I managed to muster a fairly decent collection of what is now known as the 'normal' Smurfs.
I don't think I had a particular favourite but I was pretty partial to Astro Smurf and Hangglider.
In the 1980's like most other kids in England, I wore flourescent fingerless gloves (with matching shoes), danced to Wham and collected purple mascaras.
As my collection of UK Top Ten 7" singles grew, my Smurf collection unfortunately didn't. My Smurf collection had in fact been slowly moving from my room to my brother's.
At the time I wasn't overly concerned, they still belonged to me and my brother was simply borrowing them. One day I would claim them back; all of them and intact. Or so I thought.
One day I was prompted to go and check on my Smurf collection; it wasn't pretty. I was presented with amputees, told of spontaneous combustions and mysterious vanishings.
I can't remember what else was said that day but I remember trying to work out how much I would get from selling my brother's Castle Greyskull, BMX and collection of toy cars. Then mum intervened.
Over the years the Smurf Episode has provided many laughs at family gatherings. I pretend to be miffed, my brother professes his innocence and mum intervenes (usually with cake).
I occasionally wonder if there isn't one or two Smurfs that may have escaped my brother's tyranny. Perhaps they escaped under the floorboards like his hamster or made their way into the attic in a Tonka truck.
My brother asked me recently if there was anything I wanted from the attic (mum is moving). I mention my Smurfs (again) but don't hear anything back.
Today I received in the post 9 Smurfs and some lovely family snaps!!!
Thank you lil' bro, they may not be my original Smurfs but it's still the best present ever… you can have MY Garfield book collection.