Remember to pick up your toys
When your parents tell you something you really should listen up.
This was learned the hard way, but really only later in life. When I was a kid, my parents were brilliant in their arrangement of the house. My brother and I had a separate room for our junk which was called the playroom. Periodically my mother would request a salvage effort. This may have been because her usually clean house had a pocket of disarray and mayhem. It may have been out of concern for the loss of my brother and I in a crapalanche. Whatever the reason we were usually compliant after a fair bit of pushing.
Once we decided to see what would happen if we decided to ignore her requests. Of course, we figured that if we hadn't cleaned it she would. In true Mom fashion she didn't disappoint us and cleaned with a vengeance. Less effort and fewer tactics were utilized in the invasion of Iraq. The key difference between her cleaning method and ours was that Mom's place to store the toys that were picked up and ours differed greatly. While my brother and I picked up toys and put them in the toybox or on shelves Mom picked them up and put them in large black bags which made their way to a battered woman's shelter.
While we found this to be devastating at the time, I have come to bemoan this loss much more in my later years. My brother and I had a great affinity for Star Wars toys and I have seen items that I remember playing with sell in collector's shops for serious amounts of coin. These weren't in great shape either. Wee took great care of our stuff. If felt the greatest loss over my favourite one the Large Size Boba Fett which was selling for $230.00 at a shop here in town.
The lessons to be learned here are:
Don't mess with Mom
Pick up your toys and you'll always remember where they are
There are always people who need stuff more than you
I always take consolation in the fact that somewhere out there remain children that would never have been able to lay a hand on such great toys if not for the actions of one disgruntled mother. I only hope they had as much fun, or more, with them while escaping the harsh realities of a life they never deserved to have thrown at them.
Unless they chewed on my Boba Fett, then damn them.
posted by Rainypete at 12:00 AM
4 Comments:
Don't mess with mom! My favorite rule. I have one rule for my 20 year old son...Don't worry your mom. I like yours better.
As far as picking up your toys...my husband left his entire life-long baseball card collection at his parent's home when he moved out. Several years later, when he had calculated how much it was worth, he went to their house to find them. His mother had sold the entire collection at a garage sale for $25.00. Ohhhh! The pain...the anguish.
Don't mess with mom.
Yeah Hick I know what you mean. My Dad had about 150 original Matchbox cars when he came over from England (worth a bundle, they actually came in tiny matchboxes - which he still had too). He left them there in a drawer in his room and when he went back about 10 years later she had given them to a neighbor's son. Guess he wished he'd packed them.
As for don't mess with big Sis....never a prob for me I'm big brother
That's right. Don't mess with us moms.
I've done what your mom has done. The great thing is that I only needed to to it once. *insert evil laugh here*
Mom's are mean. Mine took the stick with a nail in it that I played with and threw it out just because she had stepped on it when I left it in the bathroom.
I miss old sticky..
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