I have been thinking about how to write my review for Toy Story 3 for a few weeks now. Unfortunately, my friend Dave Lifton stole the minimalistic approach so I didn’t want to go that route. But the reality is that I bawled like a baby. You likely will too. Not just in the final scene, though. I cried for a good 10 minutes. Don’t think you will be immune to this possibility.

This movie better get serious Oscar consideration when the awards come out next year. I’m not talking about token “Hey, Pixar is pretty cool and this movie was popular” recognition. This is Best Picture material.

Someone once told me that I shouldn’t come to work expecting to make friends. I have been criticized in the past for having a fun attitude at my job. Toy Story 3 made me remember that people who think that way are the real ones with the problem.

We should never outgrow our imagination. We should never let go of the things which make us feel like a kid. The minute we do that, we have lost our tenuous grip on reality. Life is too short to take everything seriously.

That’s why I cried at the end of this movie. I realized how lucky I am to have the ability to still play, whether it’s creating a scenario in my head for fun or goofing off with my daughter. Some people think we should stop enjoying those things once we hit a certain age. Those people are dead wrong.

If Toy Story 3 wins the Oscar, it might not change the workaholics and self-absorbed people of the world, but it will validate the kid inside people like me. You can’t put that in the bank, but it can make you feel a little bit better about the world around us.

Even if you do cry like a baby.