It's the saddest thing ever. You know what I'm talking about. When your kid comes to you with a toy and asks if they can throw it away? So sad.
Little Guy's eleven. And a boy. Meaning I shouldn't be too bent out of shape when he comes down with a bin of stuffed animals asking if he can sell them in a garage sale. Right? But so many of them are special, ya know? Like Louie Cat, the gift from his favorite aunt, and who looks like his Lou and the aunt's Lou cat. Or the big black bear he got in the Smokies. And Beauty, his little beanie seahorse from a happy meal when he was two.
Then there was this one, an Easter gift from several years ago:
Isn't he cute?
Okay, confession time. I have a thing for stuffed animals. Never a baby doll or Barbie person, really, but I LOVE stuffed animals. No, I don't buy them for myself. I'm very bad about buying them for my children for holidays. Or when they're really sick. Or when the critter's too cute to pass up. Oh, and one Saturday in the fall a few years ago, I gave each child ten bucks and we hit every garage sale in town. I let them get whatever they wanted. We went home with a car full of stuffed animals.
So this particular little critter was too cute for me to let him toss. I'd fallen in love with it when I bought it for him, secretly wanting it for myself. Let me show you why:
*squeal* I love him! Look again!
Isn't he the best? No way is he being tossed. I mean, usually I take the stuffies and put them in my closet for six months. They magically reappear when I clean out the closet. If the kids wax poetic about how much they missed the critter, it goes back to their room. If they couldn't care less, it gets the toss. This one, however, will snuggle with my babies in the rocker in my room.
Just thought I'd share. :)
Until I write again ...