This week, a three-year-old named Grayson stopped by our house. He came into our home office and spotted all my comic book merchandise from DC Direct and others atop the book shelves.
He said, “Can I play with those?” and pointed to all of my MIB stuff (Mr. Miracle and Big Barda, three different Elongated Men, the Metal Men figures, Sam the Eagle, Ernie Pyle’s G.I. Joe figure, a Talking Presidents Donald Rumsfeld, etc.).
And I felt really sad to be a forty year old man with a bunch of toys I won’t let out of their boxes.
[…] that’s where we’re going to stop, even though, as with The Thing, I’ve barely given you the premise as…