I have been accused of being a hoarder (when really I think of myself as a keeper of memories). But sometimes I can’t help falling in love with inanimate objects (just rereading that line makes me think I need to go to some kind of support group….”Hi my name is Captain and I love stuffed animals, shoes, my antique Coke machine….” Oh Gawd. Is it really a wonder that I’ve never been hitched?).
Not to be confused with the likes of folks on the A&E TV show but I tend to hold onto things that I love. FOREVER. I realized this ran in my family when my Grandma passed away and as we were in her basement, going through various items collected through her life 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). Hello – someone needs to carry Grandma V’s hoarding torch (although you’ll be finding my purses overflowing with lipstick, not pencils).
Flipping through old pictures, I came across a few that shed light on the fact that I may need someone to call the hoarding show on my behalf – over a stuffed animal (and the various collections listed above). However in my defense, I’ve apparently had him by my side since my conception.
Bunny was extremely fabulous practice for my future cat ownership because all he ever wanted to do was nap with me (and my dad).
Bunny grew up with me in rural Iowa – riding in my baby buggy when I was a kid, watching me prep for junior high, easing my fears about attending a city high school after a move, comforting me when I was sick, absorbing tears from my broken hearts (those sessions never seem to end), staying up late to watch Saturday Night Live, 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. Although I am the chick with seven throw pillows – but seriously, I like to lay on them and watch TV and sometimes, just sometimes eat pizza while sipping a Skinny Pirate (or three) lay/sitting with my ancient pet bunny (and Teddy, of course) watching TV Land).
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 f’ing love this stuffed animal (I almost broke up with a boyfriend when I saw him kick Bunny like a soccer ball. Which he immediately denied when I accused him of trying to murder what was left of my beloved childhood bestie) until I thought about the longevity of our relationship. Yes, I just realized that I referred to a relationship in regard to a cotton filled creature. Does anyone have the number to the nut house (or maybe in my case burrow)?
Because of the comfort he always could give me while I was away from home as 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.
Now go give your version of Bunny (I know you have one) some love.