I know a single pencil is an odd picture for the subject line of this post, but you will soon understand why I used it.

As Christmas has past and all of the kiddies are enjoying new toys (and no doubt have them strewn all over the house) I thought I would share a childhood memory of mine that is as crystal clear in my mind as if it were yesterday.

When my sister and I were little we lived for Sunday evenings when Mutual of Omaha and the Wonderful World of Disney came on TV. Mom would get us bathed and dressed in our pajamas early enough so that we could watch the Shasta soft drink sponsored programs before we went to bed.

One particular Sunday, my sister and I had made a complete and total mess of the living room. After bathtime and dinnertime and before our shows came on, my mother and father asked us to tidy up our toys from the living room and get them into their proper places. My sister and I both balked and continued to play despite their warnings about what would happen if we didn't.

We abandoned everything when our shows came on and went to bed leaving the living room a hot mess. We awoke the next morning to find that the living room was completely clean and there was no sign of anything we had left out the night before. We went to school completely unsuspecting and came home that afternoon only to discover that we could not find anything anywhere.

My sister and I asked our mother where our playthings were and she responded nonchalantly that she and my dad had thrown them out the night before after we had gone to bed because we hadn't cleaned them up as we had been asked. My sister and I were dumbfounded. All of the crayons, the blocks, the Barbies, the tea sets....all GONE?

For the next several nights, my sister and I braved it out. We played with the "second choice" toys that had been left in our rooms that Sunday night. We colored in our coloring books with pencils (you see where I'm going with that picture now, right?). Finally, our little hearts just couldn't take it anymore and we cried over the loss of our beloved playthings.

The next morning we woke up and were having breakfast at the kitchen table. Our father entered the room with a massive garbage bag and opened it. We squealed with delight to see everything that had been all over the floor in our living room. We asked how he had gotten it and he told us that he had rushed to the junkyard and had managed to procure the bag just as the junkman was getting ready to toss it into the incinerator. Our father was our HERO!!!

Of course, now I know that the things were just stored in the attic to teach us a lesson. And what a valuable lesson we learned.

Thanks for reading!