My brother and I had plenty of toys when we were kids. In fact, I enjoy going on eBay and browsing through the 80s and 90s toys that shaped my childhood. According to my mother, my grandparents would say (jokingly, of course) that it looked like a toy store. I wonder what they would say about my house.
We could open a toy store—yesterday.
I’m glad the kids have plenty of toys, and I’m grateful they’ve been giving so many as gifts. Sure, organizing them is a challenge, but at least they’re having fun. One tough part? Trying not to step on things in bare feet.
Being barefoot is a way of life for me. When I was a baby, I kicked off booties (according to my mom), and my feet were always hot. I’m 25% Sicilian, so I’ve inherited the hot, Italian feet. Thanks, Dad.
I have yet to step on Legos as an adult. I stepped on them a couple of times in the past, and the memes are pretty accurate. It is one painful experience.
A1 puts a sea of toys on the floor. It can become an obstacle course. Yesterday, it was a bedtime ABC book that poked me in the foot. Those are some razor sharp corners! She also loves to sort and build, which is great. Then she grabs our shoes, wears them, and leaves them in the middle of the kitchen. If you read my entry about breaking my arm, you know I’m afraid of trip hazards, perhaps more so than the next mom (or so it seems).
I carry A2 and make an effort to avoid the toy maze on the ground. It’s hard work, but I enjoy playing with the toys when I’m at ground level.