I can’t think of anything more sentimental than this little dude right here. He’s been with me since before birth, because I inherited him. He’s about 27 – by my approximation. I still need to confirm this. Obviously, we have been through a great deal together – through busted eyes and broken bones and sex changes and the likes. Sex change because he was first a “he” then became a “she” but finally reverted to being a “he”. World, meet Ted/Teddy.
Wear and tear, the signs of a well-lived life.
Okay so the story. When I was younger, up tilI was about 8 years old – I would feed the teddy bear “baby food.” Mashed bananas and milk and even mashed potatoes sometimes. And I would leave the goo on his/her face. Now, I’ll tell you, if you have never had the opportunity of experimenting – bananas AND milk, after four or five days – stink. They reek!! I can’t even begin to describe the smell. But I would leave it, until the 7th day. Then I would wash my bear in water with Omo, which back in 97-98 rivaled the smell of the rotten bananas. We lived in Ngong’ and the sun would be hard pressed to shine for three hours straight up on those hills. So picture this: stink of rotten bananas + stink of Omo + musty stink from a week of trying to get the bear to dry in the sun and failing. After the week, I’d wash it again, for good measure and pray that the sun would shine for longer. ANd then vow never to feed him again – until maybe four months later, sigh – the good old days
Now, I am going to the corner to get over the fact that I just showed the world the stuffed teddy bear I live with.