I let my two sisters fight over what few dolls I was given, including that freakish bubble-do Barbie with the plum colored lips and odd skin tone like she'd died from carbon monoxide poisoning. "Dusky" the coroner would call it.
The stuffed animals I trusted. Thinking about what I am going to do with this bear has reminded me of an old friend that I haven't thought of in years. I had to be seven when this one was as close to a horse as I would ever own. It was a mule I think, from his general proportions and demeanor. Little mean eyes, no tail - all business. I used sewing needle to unpick a bridle that had been stitched to his head - my horses ran free! He was not soft. Stuffed tight with dense cotton, I could swing him by the leg and give Kitty or Patty a good stiff thwack without leaving a mark!
5 comments:
I'm exactly the same. Dolls have always creeped me out. All of my dolls wound up naked in my brother's toy box. lol!
trust is a special think. quite personal.
I have always also thought that stuffed animals were special. One of my 22-year-old daughters has yet to give all of hers up. Congratulations for giving that bear a new life!
oh this is funny. more! more!
OMG you've brought up some doll memories, and sister memories. Not especially good ones. Childhood can be a horrid memory, a nightmare. Meanness abounds. Fairness is a joke, a not funny joke. I love that you are rescuing the bear, and helping him defend himself/herself. I like the mule cudgel concept. You think like some very scary people I've known. Glad we're friends.
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