The world is made of toys

I just realized something totally amazing. Okay, I have been thinking of toys as these things that live in baskets. They have bright colors, and different shapes. Throughout the day M and D will hand me different toys and let me do stuff with them. I bang on them, or turn them around in my hands, or chew on them, or whatever. Some of the cooler ones make sounds or move or come apart.

Lately M has given me all kinds of cool toys, like this metal container with a handle on it, or different kinds of spoons, or clear containers that may or may not have stuff inside them. But today I saw her playing with some of those things herself. She turns them around in her hands, and puts things into them. She has all kinds of games she does, and D does too. He’s always playing with different things, and sometimes they’re things I was just playing with earlier. And that’s when I realized:

Everything is a toy.

Everything is there to be opened and closed, or banged on, or turned around. All kinds of things make cool noises or move or come apart. M and D have stuff that makes incredibly cool sounds, or neato colors and shapes, and they play with those things all day long, just like me. Some things they don’t let me play with, but they say I’ll get to play with them someday, and meanwhile, there are tons of toys all around me. Toys don’t just live in baskets — I get to play with the basket itself sometimes, so the basket is a toy. The floor is a toy. The chairs are toys. My hands are toys. Everything is toys!

I love this world.


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