Animals. Who says they can't be stuffed ones?
Capital C was given to me by my mom, Betty, as a Christmas gift when I was sixteen years old. If memory serves, she's the one who walked around holding him most of the day; he just fits nicely in the crook of your arm, riding your hip.
He's spent more nights in my bed and my arms than any man or child ever has, or probably ever will. He is the only one who saw my tears on my wedding night as I wept in the posh bathroom of the Ritz Carleton over the terrible mistake I'd made. He's absorbed so many tears, in fact, he should still be soggy.
He saw my son come into this world and take his first breath. He may see me take my last.
He saw my son come into this world and take his first breath. He may see me take my last.
His seams are finally giving way and although he's still in my bed, he's out of my arms because last year he simply became too delicate.
He's almost Real now, don't you think?
Awwww - that's adorable. Yes, I'd say for sure he's Real.
ReplyDeleteI like the idea of posting a link to the blog in FB - I might lem you on that.
Of course he's real.
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