After reading the findings in the recent

U.S. Public Interest Research Group's annual report

, my wife and I once again trudged through the muck of toys scattered on the floor of our 9 and 12 year old sons’ bedroom.

The report warns of strong magnets that can cause serious internal injuries if swallowed. You'd think a 9 and 12 year old wouldn't munch on a magnet, but the report claims 70% of these injuries involve children from 4-12. The report also says that lead in toys is still in issue as is noise levels and small parts that can become choking hazards.

As we slogged through action figures with arms, without arms, and with the arms of other figures jammed onto them; all know forms of transportation including horses, trucks, airplanes, boats, spaceships; and pieces from assorted board games that had been used for their intended purpose no more than once; we noticed that just about every plastic plaything donned the moniker: Made in China. And while we didn't have any toys that fit the description of any particular dangers, we were suddenly suspect of all of their toys. Call me paranoid, but if there is lead in one toy, how am I to be completely assured that there isn't lead in others aside from having every toy tested myself?



Fortunately, the boys haven't actually played with their toys since forty-eight hours after first attaining possession of any toy. It's beyond me how their room ends up resembling the after shot of battle scenes in old Cecil B. DeMille movies when more than half the time they are moping about complaining there is nothing to do.

This made me think about a time last summer when I was working on my never ending to-do list of home improvement projects. The boys were getting underfoot. They were complaining that they were bored and had nothing to do, I gave them my usual response: You have a roomful of toys to play with! Go play with them!



They went upstairs for all of about a minute and a half and then meandered down the steps, out the backdoor, and seamlessly picked up with their moping like the professionals they are.



I glanced out the kitchen window and saw one leaning against the fence and the other was sitting cross-legged in the driveway, his cheeks scrunched up by his hands that were holding up is drooping head.



After a while I looked out back again. They were gone. When I called them, they popped up from around the other side of the house. There they were fully engaged and completely engrossed by a cicada that had fallen from a tree. The older boy first poked it with a small twig. It buzzed its wings. Then he grabbed it by one of its transparent wings and held it up. The cicada flipped and flittered in his grip. His little brother gasped and jumped back.



"It's not dead," the oldest gleamed. "But it can't fly, so we are going to make a hospital for him."



The two no-longer-bored boys found a small wooden box, took leaves and bits of grass, some sticks, and created a small habitat for the cicada.



Try as they did, the patient didn't make it, but the postmortem looked even more interesting. They picked off the wings, and opened the bug up and examined it through a magnifying glass.



By the time their interest in the cicada waned, or they ran out of bug parts, whichever came first, I had arrived at a realization. Maybe our kids need less toys. Maybe they get bored so easily because they have been taught to look past what they have toward the next best thing. Look at what we are teaching them when we constantly upgrade video game systems, cell phones, tablets and other devices.



Sure, there is that one special toy that you never forget, but most toys are fleeting. If parents focus more on quality than sheer quantity, kids may learn to focus more on what they have, not what they're going to get next.

A kid’s best toy is in his mind’s eye, and it is the one that gives the most immediate reward – fun – whether it is a superhero action figure, a Barbie, or a big cardboard box.