I went to Austin this weekend for my Dad's birthday. My folks drove in to Austin and we all met up at my sister's house. We went to The Cheesecake Factory for lunch on Sunday and we brought the kids with us. Maya (4) and Max (2) were in full effect in the restaurant. Max busted out with a toy fuel-tanker truck that looked awfully familiar. It was emblazoned with the brand "HESS" which no longer makes gasoline, so I was wondering how my sister managed to get him a Hess truck. At that moment, my dad said, "You know where that truck comes from, right?" I answered no. He responded, "That was your truck. And those were your dinosaurs. We kept all of your toys, and they're Max's."

That was the coolest feeling. To know that my toys had survived all these years in some box in my parent's attic and were now passed on to my nephew really gave me the warm fuzzies.

At the exact moment this thought occurred to me, Max became possessed by a spontaneous and apparently uncontrollable urge to release the truck from his grip and send it on a direct crash course with the marble floor, thus permanently freeing the rear axles from the body of the truck.

Eh, it was just a plastic toy. Oh well. My dad thinks he can glue it back together. He can usually fix anything.