I am not going to pretend that it is hard to make me cry. It is, in fact, obnoxiously easy. Long distance calling plan commercials, books I already know the end to, Camp Takodah Sunday songs, being asked how many ears of corn I want with dinner before I'm ready to think about it, the Mother's Day episode of Rugrats (that one got me two years in a row); these are all things that I have sat through or walked away from in tears. It should come as no surprise then, that in this process that could be read as me getting rid of my childhood (we English majors are great at finding subtext in anything), I may get a little misty. Here are the first items to get me:
Let me make one thing clear- these weren't even my "good" toys. These are the ones that I rarely played with and are currently in the worst shape. But they are a start. Have you noticed that no matter how much progress is made, the pile on the bed always remains? That is because the whole bottom layer of "stuff" is stuffed. (See what I tried to do there? Didn't quite pull it off, did I?) I had an unhealthy attachment to my plush and plastic pals before. Seeing Toy Story 3 last summer did not help.
SPOILER ALERT! If you were planning on seeing this movie, but have some how avoided it for the past two years, do not hit the Play button. Also, it is time to fish or cut bait with your Netflix account. It really isn't cost effective, Mom, if you've paying a monthly fee for the one movie that will sit on your coffee table for 6 weeks at a time.
I may have had to splash a little cold water on my face after I did this.
Did I mention that I just turned 29 a couple weekends back?
The Corn!
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