If you buy me Creepy Crawlers, I swear I will never, ever, ever ask for another toy!”
This was my impassioned argument for the must-have toy of the 1978 holiday season. That year, girls and boys across the country begged and pleaded for a machine that made rubbery bugs out of something called “plasti-goop.”
“Won't you get bored of it?” my mom must have asked.
“No, never! I promise!” I must have insisted.
To my amazement, Creepy Crawlers showed up under the tree that year. I was so excited that, as soon as I unwrapped it, I lay down on my belly, speed-read the directions, and before long, was making a plasti-goop butterfly. It was a miracle. Everything I'd imagined and more.
But by the fourth plasti-goop bug, I was done. I had no interest in making a fifth. The toy gathered dust until, years later, my mom found it in the back of my closet and threw it out.
Scientists have a word for the new getting old and for delight dimming to doldrums. It's called “habituation.”