My sister, Tammie, had a good chortle guffaw chuckle when she heard me ask this one time:

Hey Chris, what does it mean when my Wii’s glowing blue?

She lost it, and upon thinking how ridiculous it sounded out of context, others joined her giggles, myself included.  As it turns out, she may slowly be turning into my foil.

Let me further explain.

Last night, one of my friends stopped by with his two sons.  They’re cute enough, nice enough kids, but where my friend made the mistake was to inform his children that I had toys.

What I have are not toys.  They’re collectibles.  Two totally different things.

Upon arriving, and not expecting them to stay long as I had mentioned plans to head to trivia, the boys whipped off their scarves and knit caps and bundled coats and proclaimed, “Where’s the toys?”

I begrudgingly lead the trio back to my DVD room (yes, they have their own room… they kinda require a room when they reach 1200+).  In there, I have Indiana Jones figures, Lego playsets, Transformers, and Matt Trakker of M.A.S.K. re-released as a G.I. Joe, all in their packages.  Of course, the first thing to reached for is Trakker.

“I know how to put this together,” the oldest proclaimed.

“So do I,” was my response as I put it back.

On one of the cabinets, I have some open figures on display which include mini Ninja Turtles, mini Transformers, a mini Grimlock cartoon figure that does not move, and both versions of Bumblebee from the Michael Bay movie.

They moved onto these collectibles, and within minutes, Grimlock was in pieces (I don’t think he’s supposed to come that much apart, if even at all), the rubberbands holding the weapons in the Turtles’ hands were snapped, and the ’77 Camaro Bumblebee was being stabbed by his own laser sword.

I have learned patience through all the years of working with computers, but when it comes to children—

My friend kept talking to me and I kept thinking, doesn’t he see what they’re doing?  The youngest had to go #2 and took Raphael with him.  Raphael!  RAPHAEL?!

When they were finally getting packed up to ship out, I told my friend he could visit with them again in about 10 years.

Now back to Tammie.  As I recounted the situation to her, she just laughed at me again.  The definition of a foil according to Answers.com:

One that by contrast underscores or enhances the distinctive characteristics of another: “I am resolved my husband shall not be a rival, but a foil to me” (Charlotte Brontë).

She said, “You do realize you’re complaining about children playing with your toys.”

I still can’t find Grimlock’s lower jaw.