I wrote this post in 2001 about a certain talking (mumbling) Teddy Bear who entered my life in 1985 and has travelled with me as I've moved thirteen different times. He always makes the cut. Even if he's stored in a box, he's been kept around.
As much as I appreciate the joy my stuffed animals bring me (he shares box real estate with an assorted group of teddy bears, puppets, dogs), I have always groaned when it was time to move or do spring cleaning. On one hand, we don't have enough space to keep untouched boxes in storage. On the other over-emotional hand, I could never give away my little friends.
While cleaning out a closet -- the first time I've cleaned it since Penelope was born -- I found the box of stuffed animals and I realized that the sentimental hoarding has paid off! I have now a box of stuffed animals to give to Penelope -- including my friend, A.G Bear.
This all goes to show that everything old is new again.
I am reminded of this image I saw the other day. It's artwork from the genre of "emotionally manipulative and sappy pictures that you resent for making you cry."
