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Last Updated: Nov 14, 2008 - 12:49:26 PM |
“My stuff, need my stuff.” This is the new phrase that is almost continuously flowing out of my toddler’s perfectly puckered mouth. When did this come about, this “mine” phenomenon? My little guy has always been overly generous with his toys, but now the other cheek has turned. It came about quite suddenly, and now the newest, shiniest toys are apart of his “mine” arsenal. His must-haves from the moment he wakes up to the time he falls asleep with them uncomfortably jammed under his little body, firmly encased in his tiny fist.
It all started with Tex Dinoco and The King, from the movie Cars. He had to have them wherever he went. Now, let’s get one thing straight here: he has an entire bucket full of Cars characters. He never minded cleaning them up and moving on to other things with these. It was like some switch was turned on in his head overnight and he realized that these things were his only, not anyone else’s. After the Cars love affair, came the Star Wars infatuation. Chewbacca and Darth Vader had to go everywhere with him, to MeMe’s house everyday, to the store, to the bathtub, and of course upstairs to bed. It was cute, and I just decided this was just another phase that toddlers go through, the “I’m attached to it and will kill for it” phase.
Moving on to the present obsession in our house, Iron Man. This little attachment has already lasted much longer than any of the others. I must say, I think this one is going to be harder to get over. Iron Man has a movie out, toys, books, and most of all, he can fly and fight bad guys. There are three different Iron Man action figures that are his reason for living at the moment. They would be Red Iron Man, Brown Iron Man, and Iron Monger. He has to take them everywhere; it’s a sight to see, him sitting on his little potty, with his lap full of Iron Men. Then, of course, there are days when the unthinkable happens, and we leave the Iron Men at MeMe’s house. So far he has dealt with these occasions reasonably well. But he must dream of them if he doesn’t have them in his possession. At the first crack of morning light, he is up and asking about “my toys.” It’s amazing how their little minds work. Now we have to be Iron Man for Halloween, and I’m afraid that once the costume goes on, I will never see my precious little boy again. It will truly be a nightmare trying to get it off.
So, as you travel around Chester on any given Saturday, to Wal-Mart, the library, or Target, and you see a little miniature Iron Man, running around and saving the world from the bad guys (hey, maybe we should send him to Wall Street), stop and say hello, because you never know; one day you just might need saving.
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