Nowadays, when you think of "crib toys" you think of plasma TVs, home entertainment centers, and a BMW parked out in the driveway. Not so at my dad's house, where I actually found my crib toys from 1960! (Would it be weird if I told you I think I remember them?) I was very bright back when I thought I knew it all. They were up in the rafters wrapped in plastic. Some are plastic, others are rubber, some are wood. All of them probably had lead based paint all over them, and yet I still survived. (Although the toxins may explain a lot about why I turned out the way I did!)
I think it's cool that my parents held on to them. It was certainly an act of love, yet I'm now faced with the delima of what exactly I should do with them? Some of you think I should put them on EBay. (If I was retired, and my kids were out of the house I probably would!) Some of you think I should save them. (To torture my own kids down the road?) Some of you think I should simply throw them away. (Which is ultimately what I did with them.) I'm faced with a lot of those kinds of tough decisions at my dad's house. 50 years of accumulation takes a lot of time to sort through. Sometimes I'm very sad. Sometimes I'm very irritated. Sometimes I don't think it's very fair that I am taking time away from my own kids to take care of this stuff. Sandy got on me Saturday at our FOURTH yard sale, and said I should cut my parents some slack. She is right. They were kids during the depression and they never had a lot of money. It seemed like my dad was unemployed as often as he worked. (In reality, the layoffs were probably just more traumatic for me so I naturally remember them more!) In my parent's way of thinking you might just need to use that Christmas wrapping paper again, so you open your presents carefully, and store it neatly away for next year...............
So I bet you think at this point I'm going to badger you about your stuff, tell you to clean out your garage, remind you that it's all yard sale fodder eventually, and plead with you to think about your own family down the road who have to make decisions about your "crib toys". (Whatever they may be?) OK, why yes I am! More importantly however, is the bigger question of what's really important to you? What are you hanging on to? What do you have wrapped in plastic that you have forgotten you even have? "Crib toys" can get in the way of our relationships with family, friends, and God. (I know this because I spent 4 hours on Sunday at Mathis Brothers deciding on recliners for our bedroom instead of swimming with Rachel or playing catch with Michelle.) It's a constant balance and battle, and I'm not immune to the culture of materialism I'm exposed to every day. It's called "Alfuentza" and unfortunately it's spreading. I just keep trying to remind myself that it's not going to matter 100 years from now the kind of fabric we picked out for the recliners. For now however, it's really nice, and I you will have to come relax in our new recliners...........
"Our desires always increase with our possessions. The knowledge that something remains yet unenjoyed impairs our enjoyment of the good before us." Samuel Johnson
Jon
(See crib toys picture below)
