When Toy Story 5 Had Absolutely No Chill

I took my kids (2 & 5) to see Toy Story 5 in the theaters on Saturday.

For context, I was, like probably every other Millennial/Gen Z parent, more or less molded by the Toy Story franchise. Growing up in the 00’s, my family had TS1 and TS2 on VHS, and I watched them both incessantly (probably more than any of my siblings, though my younger sister would probably disagree). I was partial to #2 (Jessie, obviously), and the villain in the first one being named Sid was a personally affront to my character.

I have a full-body reaction, even today, seeing the opening credits of Toy Story 1. The cloud-wallpaper bedroom in Toy Story 1 always reminded me of my brother’s room, who had apparently requested sky and ended up with planets (because when there are 4 kids, planets is gonna have to be close enough). The scene in Toy Story 2 when Andy grabs toddler Molly from her crib with such excitement reminds me of playing with my little sister, my own daily playmate for many years. We would make-believe with Polly Pockets for hours at a time, in their house of over-sized Lego blocks that also doubled as their school, vet/pet grooming salon, closet, and every other place the dolls ever needed to be.

For me, Toy Story 5 is the first Toy Story movie that has been released since I’ve had kids of my own. Both of my kids had already seen the first 4 Stories, but what a gift to be able to share with them, in real time, the continuation of something I always felt was my own when I was their age. Toy Story 5 went beyond showing it to them; we were able to share it.

Like I said, I was partial to TS2, and I have literally not once ever been able to listen to Sarah McLachlan’s “When Somebody Loved Me” without crying since I was 5 years old. Without giving away any spoilers, Toy Story 5 opened with the melody of “When Somebody Loved Me,” so I braced myself for impact.

I did cry during the movie, thank you very much, at what was likely the exact spot the film-makers had planned for us once-children, now-parents to cry. Because, yeah, my own childhood does impact my children in ways I can happy cry about.

I also cried in the bathroom, not even 25 minutes after the move started, in some sort of ironic moment given the exact movie I was there to see with my children.

Almost as soon as the movie started, my daughter said she had to potty, so I took her to the bathroom. While I was in the stall with my two year old, an adult woman was in the stall next to us with her elderly mother. From what I could gather, it seemed that the elderly mother had had an accident, and the daughter was helping her clean up.

I sat/squatted with my daughter, offering words of encouragement like, “Are you doing it!? Good job baby! Let me know if you have to potty again. Yeah girl!” High five. I’m well on my way to having taught two humans how to use a toilet; go me.

Five feet away, a daughter helped her mother, reassuring her with comforts like, “It’s okay Mom. It was an accident. It’s alright Mom. How are you feeling?”

I let a tear fall - and one might be falling now - on the way back to Theater 9. I cried for me and my daughter, who now dresses herself and can (almost) spell her own name. I prayed that time might pass a little slower for us.

Because I also cried a little for the mother and daughter still in the restroom, whose roles have reversed probably quicker than either of them ever thought possible.

Toy Story 5 was always going to be a movie that connected me to my children. That’s what it was always meant to be for the members of our generation who have Andy’s and Bonnie’s of our own now.

But the restroom is where it hit me that Andy still goes to college and Bonnie gets a tablet. Our kids grow up, almost definitely too fast. But if I can do just enough right, I might be able to raise kids who grow up to take care of their parents when the roles reverse.