I haven’t seen the recent movie Ted, but the premise is so simply brilliant that I’m sure I will. A boy wishes that his stuffed teddy bear will come alive and talk to him, and he does…and then the bear grows up with the boy. I’m not sure if teddy bears go through puberty, but I think the movie may answer that question.
I had a few stuffed animals when I was a kid, as well as a Cabbage Patch doll for reasons that I don’t quite understand (something about gender equality, perhaps? I got one when my sister got one). When I went off to college, I decided to take one stuffed animal along with me.
I chose Koala.
Koala–pictured here–is as old as I am. She’s a bit ragged, but she’s held up pretty well. I used to hold her by her arms, twist her around, and then let go to watch her spin above me. Then we’d cuddle.
Why did I take her to college? Again, I don’t know. I probably thought girls would find it cute. But I think a small part of me wanted that comfort object, even if it stayed stashed in a drawer most of the time.
Now Koala spends most of the time in my closet. I know, I know, not cool…but keeping a stuffed animal next to my bed as a 31-year-old feels a little weird. Plus, the cats would get jealous.
Koala came to mind recently when I wrote about a stuffed animal owned by the main character in my novel, Wrinkle. So I pulled her out of the closet, took a few photos for the blog, and let her sit next to me while I wrote this entry. I have to say–there’s something magical about your favorite stuffed animal. It just feels right.
I would guess that I’m not alone in keeping a stuffed animal or two from childhood. Perhaps it’s human nature to cling to those comfort objects that we gravitated towards as kids.
Did you have a favorite stuffed animal when you were a kid? Have you kept it through adulthood?