Wednesday, February 8, 2012
A toy story
And to think, we only have one.
My mom took little man for the day, and with my husband at work I grabbed a trash bag, headed down the stairs and opened the toy bin. This would be easy. After all, I am the kind of person that goes through her drawers and boxes and actually gets rid of clothes every six months, and I have no qualm in doing so. I assumed this would be just as breezy as cleaning out my closet.
Except, there was the Mickey Mouse he teethed on. And the Buzz Lightyear that he carried around everyone. And the farm where he learned Old McDonald....
Suddenly, it wasn't so easy.
With every toy I picked up another flashback came. The entire Toy Story collection. They were his first best friends. I began having these images of the movie, and the Woody doll I held in my hand for a minute came to life. I swear. It was just like the movie.
No, getting rid of these toys wasn't so damn easy. Then again neither was half his baby clothes. So did I expect anything to be different? For a moment I debated just putting it off for another day. But then another day would come, and I would be doing the same thing I am now. And so I marched on. Only putting a few aside, the ones I couldn't part with. I threw nearly half the toys in the back, replaced them with all the Xmas and Birthday gifts and tied them in the bag. I tell myself we don't have to throw away the toys, just maybe put them aside. Because I mean you never know. Should we be blessed....
Somehow I manage to put three bag full of toys aside. Having no idea what to do from there. Give them away, save them just in case? In the end, I leave them sitting in the middle of the play/living room.
Telling myself, Andy can deal with it.
Because obviously, left up to me. We wouldn't be getting rid of any of them.