The accidental collector (or, Our Life in Pez)

Karina Bland is on vacation. This column was originally published Sept. 8, 2013: It began with Batman.

My son Sawyer was 3 when he spotted a Batman Pez dispenser at Walgreens.

I explained how you packed tiny rectangle candy into the spring-loaded base and then dispensed them, one at a time, by tilting Batman’s head back at a shudder-inducing angle.

Could he have it?

I might have said no if I had known what it would lead to.

Sawyer set the Pez for safekeeping against the kitchen wall on a little ledge along the countertop.

Where his Nana saw it. The next time she came over, she brought a SpiderMan Pez, and then there were two.

Buzz Lightyear was next. A heartshaped Pez for Valentine’s Day.

Word must have gotten out about the view from the ledge, because other Pez moved in.

From their perch near the sink, Yoda, C-3PO and Chewbacca watch me do dishes. (It’s a little unnerving.)

My co-worker Christina gave us the Princess Leia Pez off her desk when she heard we collected them. (I hadn’t realized until then that we did. Collect them, I mean. They kind of just kept showing up.)

I suppose this is how it happens to people who mention they like owls or frogs. The next thing they know, they get owl T-shirts every birthday or ceramic frogs every Christmas.

It is what people first notice when they come into our kitchen.

I point to Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck from trips to Disneyland. A bunny Pez from Easter. Karen and John gave us “Wizard of Oz” Pez (including Toto in a basket) for Christmas. Capt. James Kirk and his Pez crew were from my brother.

Sawyer lost interest a long time ago, but I like that we have them.

There in our kitchen, the Pez tell part of our story in plastic and sugar. Reach Bland at karina.bland@ arizonarepublic.com or 602-444-8614.