My dad likes to collect things. Coins, stamps, Dinky toys, bottles (I kid you not, my sister Nikki will confirm that as children we did indeed spend one Saturday afternoon scavenging around a rubbish dump for old bottles). I am not quite as bad (although Mum and Dad may disagree as they are currently storing my Star Wars toys, train set and Dinky toys in their attic). I do have a penchant for a nice enamel pin badge, but that’s about it…until this week. I seem to have started collecting something which I never intended.

It all started at the A’s game last week (see “whose on first base” blog for more details). When we went for a drink we were faced with the option of a “Commemorative Soda” or…well that was it really. Basically it meant that we could keep the cup which was branded up with the A’s logo. I’m not exactly sure what we were meant to be Commemorating (paying 8 bucks for a soda I guess). Anyway, we paid our money, drank our soda in a suitably commemorative fashion and went for a commemorative wee. (These sodas are big. We can’t work out the size. We guess a litre but everything’s Imperial over here so we are nor sure. It’s more than a pint, so it might be a quart or a hin, or a hundred weight or something. Anyway it was a lot). We then took our commemorative cups with us with plans to use them when we have guests around and we have run out of glasses or we want to relive the atmosphere of the game. For the full effect we will also make our guests sit on hard seats, open a window to get a draft and charge them $12 for a bag of Doritos with some melted cheese of them.

Today we went to San Diego zoo (glad to say no one had fallen into the bear enclosure). It was hot and before long we needed refreshment and so headed to one of the numerous eateries. Here we had the option of a “souvenir slurper” (never has a product been so suitably named to induce bad behaviour in children. What next? The “Stuff ’till You’re Sick Sweeties”? But I digress) for $8 (but free refills) or an ordinary one for $5 (but $1.50 refills). Now I quickly did the math (as they say over here) and concluded that my bladder couldn’t cope with 1 cup and 2 refills, so it made sense to just go for the ordinary one.

When I got to the checkout, the operator David (for that was his name. He insisted on telling me) gave me what looked like 2 commemorative cups. I explained that I just wanted the regular ones. He told me that these were the regular ones and the souvenir slurpers were larger, had animal figurines on the top and a handle. (We saw several throughout the course of the day, usually in the cup holders of prams, and they lived up to the hype. The handles we like the handles which you get on buckets and in fact these cups we so large they could have doubled as a fire pail). So I took my 2 gallons of diet coke and went on my way.

So there you have it. I have now started collecting commemorative cups, whether I wanted to or not. As I get older I am conscious that I am becoming more like my dad (which is no bad thing). Perhaps it’s in me genes to become an ardent collector. Actually, I have got some paper napkins I have picked up at a few restaurants.

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