I have a serious soft spot in my heart for Playmobil.  When I was little I had the Victorian Playmobil dollhouse which I played with long, long after it was acceptable for someone my age to play with dolls.  I used to decorate it for Christmas with tiny candles in the windows and garlands, a little tree and some teeny tiny presents my mom and I found at Michael’s. I spent hours with that dollhouse– thankfully my parents have kept it and someday I’ll break it out again for a daughter or niece or something.

I might have to buy the bicycle Mail Carriers just to complete the set.  I mean, I now have 2 of 3 components and so it just seems silly not to finish it up.  Right?  Plus, it is only like $9 and that’s nothing…

I’m rationalizing, I know.  Jon and I sometimes (in a not creepy way although now that I write it it sounds weird) kind of justify toy purchases by saying we’re building up a stock of super sweet toys that our as-yet-unborn children can play with.  Jon buys Legos.  Not a lot, but he does have more than a grown up “should” (although, in my world we still get to play with things like toy post offices).

Anyway, when I saw the Playmobil Post Office it had to be mine.  Jon, smart man that he is, wouldn’t actually let me buy it when we first saw it– on a trip to France and Germany three years ago.  However, I remembered it and a few weeks ago when I went on that big mail kick and got the delivery man… well, it was just a matter of time before the Post Office set was  mine too.

I spent Friday night putting it together and then lots of time kind of moving the people around, sorting the little letters for them… in short, being a crazy person.  But a nice, harmless, “isn’t that sweet” crazy person… right?  I hope.