This morning I was reading Facebook posts when I found the cutest picture my nephew had posted. The picture transformed me back to happy Christmas times when I was a child so I knew I had my post topic for today. When my brother was four he got a huge bag of toy soldiers for Christmas. I hated those little green men. Everywhere in our house you tried to walk, sit, or sleep you would find a toy soldier hidden in a private bunker awaiting the enemy. I cannot tell you how many times I pulled little green guns out of my feet where they had lodged themselves. They hurt! Many years would pass and my son would get a bag of little green men for Christmas. You would have think I would have learned back when i was seven....but alas, obviously I didn't. Once again I found myself stepping or sitting on little green men who were hidden in private bunkers awaiting their enemies and I think I was said enemy. Playing war was an endless game at my house. I would step on them, fuss at Eric for not picking them up, he would apologize with a twinkle in his eye, and smile his mischievious little grin and minutes later I would step on another one and the ritual would be repeated. I was delighted when Eric moved onto Star Wars action figures....you could see them. Little boy toys are no different then the countless Barbie shoes I would find everywhere. Sigh! But you know....since they have all grown up, married, and moved away I would give anything to step on a toy soldier or Barbie shoe again.
1 comment:
I hear ya and totally agree.
Such a bittersweet remembrance, isn't it?
I remember my parents occasionally stepping on one
of my jacks I had forgotten to pick up.
The beat goes on . . .
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