Our oldest child is OBSESSED with Woody and Buzz from Toy Story. I’m not even sure OBSESSED is the right word to describe it. His favorite books are WoodyBuzz. His favorite movie is WoodyBuzz. He eats popcorn and calls each kernel WoodyBuzz. I can’t keep his Toy Story t-shirt clean fast enough. When we take it off him at night, he screams. When my sister takes off her boots at our house, he clutches them for dear life and says WoodyBoot! He has sheets with stars on them – they are called WoodyStars. He has pj’s with a rocket ship on them – they are called BuzzShip. If something flies, like a plane, it’s BuzzShip. I could go on. And on.
For his birthday he got a large talking Woody doll. The details are impressive, the toy itself is really nice. His Nana got it for him. This is an important detail, because the rest of this post is about to get extremely immature and inappropriate.
This doll has made me giggle like a 6th grader. Here are some of the wonderful phrases we have said in regards to this doll:
- He loves the Big Woody that Nana gave him.
- That Woody is really impressive.
- Where’s J’s Big Woody? I can only find his small one.
- Oh my gosh, that Big Woody scared me!
- Geesh, if J’s not careful, he’s going to break that Big Woody.
I’m awful, right? It’s awful. I apologize.
But I’m also giggling.