The first Toy Story movie came out the year Roscoe was born. I remember taking baby Logan and toddler Roscoe to see Toy Story 2 in the little theater in downtown Logan. First we had a lame, soft-body Buzz. Then Levi was lucky enough to get an awesome new Woody and a Buzz whose buttons really worked. Each boy has gone through a long phase of watching (parts of) Toy Story every day and holding Buzz and Woody as their very favorite toys. Unlike all other toys in our household, Buzz and Woody never go out of rotation in the closet or furnace room. Buzz and Woody do not have to be shared.
Last night I took the kids to see Toy Story 3, including a big Roscoe who looks a lot like the grown-up Andy in the movie. Little Jess was enraptured. I kept poking Logan in the side so he'd turn and see Jesse with his smiling face turned up to the screen. Whenever someone in the movie would disparage the toys, Jesse would say, "My toys are not junk!" "Don't call my toys trash!" and (my favorite) "My toys are not plastic!"
I realize it's just a movie, but Pixar so gets what toys mean to children, and what childhood means to children and adults. Childhood doesn't last. Neither--no matter how hard they try--do the toys of childhood. We honor it and serve it while it lasts, then we put away the toys and let the children go.