In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Toy Story.”
I have not really written any daily posts for a while, needed a break, but today I was wandering through the reader and thought this was more interesting than the usual offerings.
I had many toys as a child, at different ages, different things occupied my attention, I did have two constants throughout my childhood; my cat Tammy and my Imagination. I was always an imaginative and creative child, I guess that is something I still carry with me, alas I lost poor old Tammy many, many years ago. However I still think fondly of her.
I guess I went through the usual bears, dolls, pull-a-long toys, then bikes (then boys), I had one particular Bugs Bunny stuffed rabbit, which I got when I was very young and carried with me everywhere I went, my Mum spent many a night sewing poor ‘Bugs’ back together, he became so threadbare Mum made him special clothes to stop his insides falling out. Bugs went everywhere I did, which meant he got dragged through mud, rain, puddles, food, gardens, dirt. He was frequently washed, as he smelt and that time apart was tortuous. My parents tried to find other stuffed toys, and even security blankets, but as ever with small children, my heart was taken with Bugs. Try as I might, I cannot remember why or when I stopped dragging him around (possibly when all four limbs and both ears became detached), I actually still have him, safe and sound all wrapped up in a cupboard, I dare not look at him, the light of day may cause him to crumble into dust………he was never a particularly well mad toy to begin with. I have not thought of Bugs in a long time, and even now it brings back many fond memories and also a sense of loss. I guess through Bugs I learnt about sickness and loss; there is no greater joy in a child than having a favorite toy fixed or mended and returned.
I remember my own daughter had a similar attachment to a purple stuffed Mr. Impossible doll / teddy type of thing, I honestly cannot even remember where she came by ‘Mr. Man’……….but she was not to be parted from him. Occasionally she would momentarily put him down, while distracted by something else, these were nightmarish times if this happened in a shopping centre or strange place. The frantic searching for Mr. Man when she suddenly realised she no longer had hold of him. Those tender years do not communicate well when their heart is breaking for their favorite toy, they cannot remember where they left it and cannot be consoled.
My Youngest daughter never really had an attachment to a particular toy like my eldest or even my self. Everyone always comments how my eldest is so much like me. My husband on the other hand had a special toy, a stuffed pony……as back then, it still sits in a cupboard to be looked at and not played with, a shame in one way, however it is still all in one piece…….unlike poor Bugs.