One of my favorite bloggers, Whoorl, has written today about her favorite blankie from when she was little. She's even still got a wee bit of it left; taken on the sly the day her parents conned her into giving it up in exchange for a Dilly Bar! (hey, who can blame her? Dilly Bars rock.) We all had blankies (or a special stuffy) didn't we? The one thing that calmed and soothed us when no one else in the world seemed to care. Mine was my blanket, Pinkie. I don't remember much about it because IT WAS TAKEN FROM ME MUCH TOO EARLY AND I'M STILL BITTER but I seem to remember it being, um, pink floral with pink satin trim around it. And then, one day, my parents decided (WTF??) that I needed to give Pinkie up. I believe the story was that Pinkie "accidentally" caught on fire.
The SADDEST story of all time relates to Eric (my ex-husband for those that may not know). When he was little, he had a very special stuffed turtle. He slept with it every night and carried it everywhere. One Saturday, he couldn't find Turtle, but his family was piling into the truck to go to the dump. As his father unloaded the truck, Eric was watching the garbage as it climbed up the conveyor belt when something familiar caught his eye. That's right, Turtle. Poor little guy stood there helplessly as his beloved Turtle rode the conveyor belt up, up, up and then he fell - whoomf - onto the heap of stinky, nasty garbage. And there was nothing he could do about it. His parents hadn't even had the sense to put Turtle into a plastic bag or anything! Needless to say, he's never let them forget it.
A couple of years ago, Pier One had big, green stuffed turtles (why, I do not know) and that year Eric (then 37 years old) got not one but TWO turtles for Christmas.
What about you? What was your special "snuggle" when you were little, and how did you come to part with it?
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I'm a nice person, dammit.
about me
- kate
- washington state
- I am a bleeding-heart liberal, smart-ass, book-loving craft geek. Married to the love of my life, mother of 1 smart, smart-alec 10 year old. I ran my first marathon at 44 and can't wait to run another.
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March
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- how much random crap can i squeeze into one post?
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14 comments:
Kate, you are turning into a sweet little Jewish lady who lays on the guilt like no other possibly can.
Thanks a lot ! Another thing to feel badly about and, weep and agonize over ! WTH, I'm just gunna slit my wrists.
Now mother, that's a little melodramtic. Times were different back then, and Adolf Hitler's Book of Childrearing was all the rage. :)
You KNOW I'm kidding; we all turned out fairly normal and well-adjusted. Except Steve.
How come you're the only one with traumatic memories from childhood? Well, ok, Linda might have one or two from when I threw a knife at her, or hit her on the head with a hardcover book, but I think you're the only one that mom and dad scarred for life.
I STILL have my bwankie... and I EVEN SLEEP WITH IT! oh ya... go laugh! Its ok...
Jacki, ok: HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
Jodi,
What would YOU know? You've always been the precious, favorite golden-child who never got into trouble. ;) Lala and I, on the other hand, came into the world pushing people's (ie. MOM'S) buttons. And apparently I still have the knack! *snort!*
And goddammit, no body's answering my question!! What was your special snuggle and how and when did you give it up??
Well fine. Maybe YOU were the golden child. I didn't get a "snuggie". I slept with an old burlap sack that dad found out in a field. I still have a small part of it that I rub mom's nose in about every six weeks.
Now aren't you sorry you insisted! Maybe some of your nice friends will give you answers, although aren't you glad you have me!
I never had a snuggie. But then I was born during the depression and we couldn't afford blankets, let alone one for a kid to just hold. I think they gave me a chicken.
Somehow, its now the same thing.
Mom! THAT wins the "most pitiful" prize, hands-down!
Guess what you're getting for your birthday??
My first teddy bear was loved and adored until i was about 4..then my mother thought it needed a spin in the washing machine. I REMEMBER staring into the glass door and watching ted go around and around. I watched him disintegrate into hundreds of stuffing pellets. Ah! My mother can STILL be made to feel guilty!
Oh bigbucketgirl, that is horrible! Do you still get traumatized by washing machines? I would!
It's amazing how our mothers can still be made to feel so guilty (witness the earlier comments between my mother and I!)
I hate to ruin all the love here,... but what the hell, as the family know-it-all,...
Kate, yer blanket was actually called "pink ni-nite", not pinkie. But the strawberry milk that you drank, you did call that "pink". You'd bring us your cup and say, "Can I have some pink?"
You were sort of a cute little kid, but damn you've gotten mean in your old age.
OK, I have a stuffed lamb. And when I nuzzled it's muzzle to non-existance, Mom - yes - our Mother, the one that beat you, took your blankets, locked you in the basement - yes, that Mom, lovingly restore my lambs nose, with pink polka dot cotton, and his nose and mouth we black rick rack.
And I still have him, carefully tucked away, and I pull him out every few years, and nuzzle him for a moment or two, and then carefully tuck him away again.
Thanks Mom, for saving him for me.
:o)
Oh, Lala, thank you. A kind word, a sweet memory. You made my day.
I remember that little lamb, and I didn't know you still had it. I'm glad----and that you still cherish it.
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