|Long since forgotten|
I can just imagine the toys, like in the movie Toy Story, are just sitting there waiting to get played with one more time. Chances are they won't, but I kind of would like them to remember the fun they had with their Sheriff Woody doll or their Buzz Lightyear Space Ranger.
There is something magical about kids playing with toys. They use their imaginations to create these complex story lines that only they and the toy would understand. Then somewhere a long the way they lose interest and the world of imagination disappears. Why do they have to get older? Why can't they just stay a certain age forever? Why can't this fantasy world be the world in which we live?
As I put these toys in storage boxes, I don't know what is going to become of them. I haven't fully decided if I want to donate them to some needy kids or hold onto them to let my grandkids play with them. Our old toys deserve the best because they are the best. The ending of our toy story hasn't been written yet, but I hope they don't mind waiting around to find out.