Last night my youngest boy (the anti-rude, eraser eating maniac) was looking through some old photo albums. For some reason the kids love this. They love it, not usually because they want to see themselves or just memories themselves, they want to look at all their old toys that they opened up at Christmas or something.
When I put the boy to bed he said to me, "Mom, do you know that when I was looking at the pictures that I almost cried?"
"Oh, why?" I thought maybe he was sentimental about seeing me and himself in the early days, which would not surprise me but it would make me feel nice.
"Oh, because I saw all those toys that I used to have that I still love and I forgot about and I am sure you threw them away!"
If it were up to him, we would keep every fragment of every broken toy so that his room would be a huge trash heap, we would eat candy for dinner, and we would allow him to continue to eat erasers and rock himself to sleep (he wakes up the whole house creaking the bed so loudly and singing like he is a Native American).