My head hurts, I need to get working on re-baby/inlaw-proofing this house and I really want to finish season one of “Avatar: the Last Airbender” before I go to bed, so we’re doing a short, slice of life piece and calling it a day.
My mom is a pack rat and it’s pretty much ruined my life. Not only did I nearly trip and fall over a box of saved Sunday funnies in our basement and nearly crack my head open but that little mental quirk is totally hereditary. I had to force myself to throw away a broken bike pump because I had so much wasted space in garage just begging to store stuff.
Her attachment to things totally paid off a tough. A couple week ago, she brought my old Ninja Turtle figures for me and her grandchildren to play with. I could friggin’ smell my childhood coming off these things.
My son and nephew have both been going though a bit of a Turtles kick lately so it was perfect timing and a ton of fun. And better yet, my son is now hooked on the concept of playing with toys like this now.
So now we play with action figures a lot. And of course these action figures need to fight which is done in the ancient martial art of smashing the things into each other while making fight noises with your mouth and hoping your fingers don’t get smashed.
Just like his old man, he doesn’t have a lot of actual action figures, so we get to play pretend while we’re playing pretend (that guy from the memes would love it). Like today, I had to let him use his apatosaurus (the word brontosaurus is forbidden in my home) figure as a superhero.
He’ll have plenty of time in the future to learn all about the racist laws that prevent such things from ever really happening.
Man, I really thought I’d have more than that. Sorry folks, you’re getting what you’re paying for tonight.
