The Power of Childhood Toys

Last night I caught up on some old The Simpsons episodes recorded by our Tivo. One of them was “Rosebud” where Mr. Burns longs for his childhood teddy bear, Bobo. It made me think of something that happened during our recent move out to Phoenix, Az.

The day the movers drove our stuff from California to Arizona it poured rain — the entire day for the entire drive. Unknown to the driver, the moving truck had a leak and a lot of our boxes got wet. We keep original boxes when we can, so our electronic and kitchen appliances were saved by the foam they were packed in.

However, I kept a plastic bin with all my precious items in it.

This bin contained stuffed animals I’ve had since I was about 3 years old — a special Winnie-the-Pooh my mother made from a yellow jointed bear and a custom-made red felt shirt (because you couldn’t get a Pooh Bear in Kenya), a tiger someone gave me because I wanted a Tigger doll (I named it Pitsy) and my precious Tigger doll I got later — along with some worldly antique statuettes and figurines — two dolls from Japan that my uncle brought from when he was stationed there, several items from East Africa and a marionette my mother bought in India.

The bin was at the top of the pile by the leak. The bin had a lid that opened in the middle, so it filled up with about three inches of water. When the driver showed my the bin, I was reasonably upset.

So we quickly took everything out to let them dry.

When I pulled my Tigger doll out, heavy with all the water he absorbed, I started to cry.

I don’t like crying in public; I usually hold it in and keep it to myself. But my poor little soaked-through Tigger, who has survived a trans-Atlantic journey, a friend’s dog using it as a chew toy, and, of course, several years of being cuddled with when I slept, just looked so bad I couldn’t contain myself.

I’m 41 years old and here I was crying over a stuffed animal. It just goes to show you the power humans can put into objects, especially those as loved as my little Tigger is.

After about a week of drying, everything is save-able. However, one of the Japanese dolls lost her painted on eyes and now looks through slanted-eye-shaped white fabric.

The wooden statuettes are a bit on the dry side, but I think a bit of orange-oil should fix that.

And Tigger? His fur is a bit matted, but he survived to love again.