I have been accused of being a hoarder – and in many ways I am.
Not to be confused with the likes of folks on the A&E television show but I tend to hold onto things that I love. FOREVER. I realized this ran in my family when my Grandma passed away several years ago. We were in her basement, going through various items collected through her life and I opened up a purse, finding it full of unused pencils (I mean, if the world comes to an end, you definitely need non-sharpened pencils…for weapons, possibly?). Finding her stash only validated my need to keep my childhood eraser (yes, erasers), sticker, stamp and rock (gravel, mostly) collections tucked away in boxes (I mean, my grandchildren (or grandpets in my case) will need something to look through once I cease to exist).
Flipping through old pictures, I came across a few that shed light on the fact that I may need someone to call the show on my behalf – over a stuffed animal. However, in my defense, I’ve apparently had him by my side since my conception.
Bunny grew up with me in Iowa – riding in my baby buggy when I was a kid, watching me prep for junior high, comforting me when I was sick, absorbing tears from my broken hearts (funny how that happens more than once), staying up late to watch David Letterman in high school, accompanying me to college and finally, Nashville, where he sits on my bed today (I swear to Jesus that he sits behind a pillow and is the one and ONLY stuffed animal on the bed – see proof below).
I realize people have their own versions of Bunny – whether it be a blanket, pillow, toy – but it never dawned on me how much I freaking love this stuffed animal (what’s left of him anyway).
Because of the comfort he always could give me while I was away from home when a kid, anxious and lost in college or lonely and scared when I first moved to Nashville, there’s nothing but love for Bunny. So call off the intervention. And give your version of Bunny some love.