I was reading True Mom Confessions the other day and one was submitted about always making sure that the stuffed animals were comfortable when she made her kids’ beds every day. And I TOTALLY FELT HER ON THAT ONE.
I have a .. slight .. issue. I believe that all things have a soul.
I KNOW. I know it sounds crazy. Mock me if you must. But seriously.. this is a big problem with me. I have been this way as long as I can remember, back to when I would take turns having favorite stuffed animals because I didn’t want any of them to feel slighted. Back to when, in first grade, a friend let me borrow a poodle-shaped eraser and I treated it like a minature dog for a week, until my mother made me give it back. Back to when, in third grade, I was obsessed with a McDonalds give-away Christmas Fozzie Bear and would not go anywhere without him. If you want to give me a guilt trip, hold up a stuffed animal and make him talk. Seriously, Bryan did this last night with a Curious George plush and I thought I was going to come-apart. Of course, then Bryan did his BiCurious George take and sullied the good name of all monkeys everywhere.
I get upset if you throw DOMO. He has feelings, you know.
The big bear that Keboobalah bought on the day of Binja’s birth? I feel the need to play with him, since he sits there, just watching that kid play with toys that just DON’T APPRECIATE IT.
I blame two things:
- The Velveteen Rabbit - I cannot read this without sobbing. I have a first edition of this book .. somewhere, anyway .. and it still haunts me to this day.
- When I was four, I was in preschool and we were playing with play-doh. I punched mine, and the teacher admonished me with, “Don’t hurt the play-dohs feelings, Sarah.” OH, SHIT, I thought. I NEVER REALIZED.
I worry about passing this INCREDIBLY STUPID and yet ENTIRELY CONTROLLING affliction on to my son, but at the same time.. on the off-chance that his toys came to life at night, wouldn’t you want YOUR kid to be on their good side?