Let me tell you this - if you do throw them out, you'll never ever ever forget it.
We all loved Toy Story 1 and 2. Years ago my kids (eldest off to uni next year HOWL) had a Woody and Buzz.
In the long break between films 2 and 3 Woody and Buzz lived in the playroom mostly unregarded. One day when the kids were in school and the house was quiet, I heard someone talking downstairs. Having an overactive imagination, I naturally assumed burglars and nearly cacked myself.
My Police Officer friend has always said burglars don't want to confront householders and would try to escape rather than have a stabby fight.
The talking went on intermittently so eventually I jumped up and down and made a big shouty noise, so that said burglars would run away before I could get downstairs.
When I did pluck up the courage to get halfway down the stairs, I recognised 'There's a snake in my boots!'. Woody had decided to start talking all by himself.
I'm ashamed to say that under the influence of 10 tons of adrenaline, I killed the bastard. Properly.
Not wanting my kids to see what I'd done, I had to 'dispose of the evidence' and concoct a cover story that wouldn't traumatise them. So Woody (and of course Buzz) had found a lovely new home because toys really do need to be played with, Darlings, and they'll be much happier than being left on a shelf here.
The guilt has plagued me ever since. Proper, gnawing guilt.
And I never want to see Toy Story again.
Just don't do it.