With my little girl still in bed, daddy gone to work, my little guy and I had some quiet time together. When I came downstairs after getting dressed I couldn’t find my little guy. So I looked in the back yard and this is what I found:
My little guy with all of his metal toys on the glass patio table. I had a second to think, no! But then he was so happy and just driving and loading them that I just rolled with it.
There’s a story with all these old toys. Our last trip to Montana, my father in law was packing his shop to move and he got all of his old trucks down. He gave Jack a few of these really old toys. The old ones were his as a little boy and my husband played with these all the time as a little guy. My father in law can be a real softie and told me the stories of each of the trucks. Some of the newer ones he found at the old dump when his kids were little. They didn’t have any money, young couple, 1960’s, two little kids, so he was always on the look out for things he could fix for the kids. I wrote some of the stories down, I’m thinking I’ve got a couple scrapbook pages waiting to be made. Maybe a mini-book dedicated to these old toys?
Now, some of these toys are probably collectors items. But my father in law wanted his son to play with them and his grandson to play with them. Who cares about collecting stuff just to collect?
(I really need to remind myself to not collect just for the sake of collecting.)