Speaking of things that are horrifying--I bought him a fun new toy when he came to live with me because I loathe his favorite stuffed Squirrel. Enter Fuzzy Green Man. Fuzzy Green Man had a nice life for about a week and a half. Hogan has already ripped all the stuffing/insides out of Fuzzy Green Man and killed him.
The only toy that survives is the mother freaking Squirrel.
I hate it. Squirrel is nasty, ratty, and disgusting but for some reason he gets to keep his insides. I can barely touch it without cringing. Actually, I can't even believe I put it on my sofa so I could take a picture of it. Today Hogan brought it to me and I just stood there. I stood there judging him with his favorite, nasty (did I mention disgusting?) Squirrel that he has had for a long time and clearly loves very much.
And then I realized that I had no right to judge him.
Meet Bear (I was a creative child, what can I say?).
That's right. This is my teddy bear. Bear lives in the closet. I would never bring him out for the general public to see (you know, so I won't be judged) but he is very dear and special to me despite his awkward and ungainly appearance. When I was younger I would take him everywhere and after a while he started to fall apart. His head wouldn't stay on. And neither would his arms. My mom would routinely sew him up. My grandmothers would sew his body parts back on. I would sew his body parts back on. But the fabric is just too worn to even hold thread in some places. I look like a teddy bear serial killer because I keep his arms and head in a plastic bag next to his body in the linen closet. But, despite all this--he is awesome.
It was suddenly very clear to me. I am obviously the only one who can truly appreciate this stuffed, decapitated, limbless Bear. As such, Hogan is still the proud owner of cruddy Squirrel.
Love you. Mean it.
~the single gal~