Over the past few months, young Samson has gotten really into Playmobil. Which is great, because the figures are almost exactly the same as when I played with them. Honestly, I think the big difference is that now some of the guys have beards, but otherwise it's the same as it ever was.
We've got a pretty good cross section of Playmobil society: police copter, bank, construction site, rancher (with cows and cow poop; no, I'm not kidding), and a plane with pilot and flight attendant.
At this point, we're just an Indian chief and leather guy short of having our very own Playmobil Village People.
Usually the pilot and all his passengers talk about where they're headed or offer each other juice. Sometimes they finish conversations with "OK, bye. I love you."
I'm not sure what has shifted, but last night after he'd gone to bed and we were cleaning up, Vicki and I discovered some sort of mini Guantanamo Bay set up. This bears watching...
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