Hatchimals can talk, sing, walk... and curse, apparently
2016 will be remembered as the year we lost some of the biggest cultural icons of all time. It will also be remembered as the year Donald Trump, in some alternative universe-type situation, was elected president of the United States. And for millions of parents, it will be remembered as the year they nearly lost their minds (plus time, energy and money they'll never get back) trying to get their hands on the must-have (and sold-out) Christmas toy: the Hatchimal.
Such a fuss was made about this thing, you'd think it possessed magical powers. Alas, no. It's a small battery-operated bird-like creature with slightly creepy eyes in a plastic shell. It uses its spring-loaded beak to "hatch" out of its shell (if you're lucky; see below) and thereafter, it is the lucky child's responsibility to rear it through three stages of life: baby, toddler and child. Hatchimals can be taught how to talk, sing and walk. Hours of fun, apparently.
One Hatchimal is currently experiencing its 15 minutes of fame after a Canadian dad told CTV Vancouver that his 6-year-old son's toy doesn't just talk — it uses rather colorful language. The outbursts occur during the night, when all well-trained Hatchimals should really be sleeping soundly. But this one, according to George Galego, says "fuck me" in its sleep.
Galego shared a video of the cussing creature on YouTube, but we have to say, it's not entirely clear what it's saying. Which is just as well — Galego's wife Sarah says their son can't distinguish between the cursing and the general Hatchimal gibberish, so they won't be returning the toy.
This is just the latest controversy facing the Christmas toy of 2016. Seemingly, hundreds of children across the world are beyond devastated that their Hatchimals won't hatch. There was even a Facebook group set up for disgruntled parents to share their own personal tales of how Hatchimal ruined Christmas. "Dead Hatchimal Owners United" appears to have now been deactivated, however — perhaps unable to cope with the level of activity.
The toy's Canadian manufacturer, Spin Master, did release a statement on Christmas Day acknowledging the complaints that had flooded in from customers, and there's also a tips and tricks section on their website to help coax those stubborn Hatchimals out of their plastic shells.
We should know by now that trend toys rarely live up to the hype. But if you're one of the parents who paid hundreds of dollars to ensure their kid had a smile on their face on Christmas morning, you may be echoing the words of one particular Hatchimal. Fuck me, indeed.