inside, outside

i spent hours playing with Mr. Potato Head when I was little. I don't really understand the fascination it held for me... i could spend hours putting arms on his nose and eyes on his ears and making him cross-dress (i am sure, if Freud encountered Mr. Potato Head, he would have alarming things to say about my psyche).

my son got a Mr. Potato Head for Christmas. First thing he did was give him a purse. Then he ran over him with a fire-truck.