Confession: I have a very severe case of Can't-throw-toys-away-itis. I've suffered from the disease for as long as I can remember. I could prove it by parading out bag-after-bag filled with stuffed animals from my childhood, but really, the most effective proof comes in the form of toys from the bottom of the toy food chain.
Happy Meal toys.
Now, before the Nutrition Police come jumping down my throat about letting my kid eat that many Happy Meals, please note that it is *I* who will live forever thanks to the wondrous preservatives contained in McDonald's french fries and that orange day-glo cheese they use. I am a fan of "Cheeseburger Happy Meals Without the Meat, please" and have been eating them pretty much forever, especially when I need a cheap lunch quick.
And, well, if you look closely at some of the toys, you'll realize that Alexis was definitely not the beneficiary of the McDonald's goodness.
Dr. Google says I've had those two toys since 1996.
*hangs head in shame*
I told you I can't throw away toys. I CAN'T. Not even when they deserve to die a painful death.
Exhibit A:
DIE, STUPID GUITAR, DIE! Er . . . I can wish a painful death on the annoying thing, but I can't actually put it in the trash.
Perhaps the most annoying toy every to come into my possession was this ridiculous brown/gray blob thing that made a nose that sounded a little bit like a gassy foghorn. Actually, it didn't just sound a little like that, it sounded EXACTLY like that. Somehow the thing became stuck under the seat of my car, a fact which was only evident when I made a right turn. I would turn the steering wheel and hear the loudest, most obnoxious farting noise coming from directly below me.
So classy.
It stayed in my car for months because by the time my hands were free to rummage for the Mystery Farter, it had long ago stopped making the noise. I would forget right up until I had to make another right turn. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Oh, and this is the Mystery Farter.
A person with a brain would have thrown it away after evicting it from the car. I, on the other hand, tossed it in with the dozens of other Happy Meal toys.
I told you it was a disease.
And now I've gone to see Toy Story 3.
First of all, if you haven't seen it yet, GOOOOOO! It just might be the best Pixar movie of all time, which is like saying the $100 bill is the greatest currency of all time. Seriously, I loved the movie, as did Alexis and Mr. Husband.
Second of all, thanks to the Toy Story franchise, but especially Toy Story 3, I now think toys have feeeeelings and they'll be hurt and scared and OMG! Not the landfill! And OMG! Not the daycare center and OMG! Not the attic! and OMG! you have to keep toys forever and ever and ever and you have to play with them every day and waaaaah! I'll never throw away another toy again, not even a broken one because what if it's Woody and Buzz's friend?
If you haven't seen Toy Story 3 yet, clean out the toybox before you do. It'll be the last time you'll ever get rid of a toy without feeling guilty about it.
Or is that just me?