I have lost a great
many friends. Close friends. Friends that have gone on vacations with me,
friends that have gone to the movies with me, friends that I eat dinner with. I
know these friends’ birthdays, families, and likes and dislikes. We were close
and then, in a blink of an eye, they disappear from my life. Sure, they may
stop by occasionally, but it is never like it was. Did I do something to drive
them off? The only thing I think I did was go shopping. And yet, that’s all it
took. One quick trip and our friendship disappears. These friends all had something in common.
They were all my sons’ stuffed animals.
It started with Butcho, a lovable brown puppy, the Moose’s first
stuffed animal. He joined us on a Disney cruise where he sailed the seas and
played with the towel animals. And who could forget Wuzzy, an orange cat that
was the Moose’s best friend for years. Wuzzy went everywhere with us; he had
quite a lot to say, especially at bedtime when he would tell the Moose stories.
After years of friendship, I thought we were close. I thought we had a lifelong
commitment. But I was wrong. Butcho and Wuzzy both left me as the Moose grew
up.
The Squirrel was never interested in stuffed animals until
this year. Once he found his niche, he sunk in with his whole imagination. The
Squirrel has an obsession with stuffed bunnies, the more realistic looking the
better. (Cue pun about multiplying like rabbits – it would be funny if it
weren’t true.) We have Fisher Butcher, Wisher Washer, Wisher Washer 2, Bouncer
Waller, Sunny Loppy, Zooey Bella, Torpedo Speedo Creampuff, Pumpkin Pot, Dot
Ginger, Tulucy Dutch, Winter Mangrove, and our latest, Woodchip Fluff*. The
Squirrel has created backstories for each and every one. They have birthdays,
birthday parties, and families. Heck, I even made a Halloween costume for
Winter Mangrove this year. And don’t get me started on the very confusing
weekend when Fisher Butcher had gender identity issues and briefly was a girl
bunny (he’s back to being a boy now.)
And then, just like that, the current best friend bunny is
out as a new one comes in. And the Squirrel could care less – he’s just excited
for the newest friend. After months of joining us at dinners, swim lessons,
movies, and road trips, Winter Mangrove has been relinquished to the bed and
Woodchip Fluff is with us 24/7. The Squirrel sees no betrayal, while I struggle
to let go of an object that I not only kept track of ALL THE TIME but also
provided narrating for at bedtime. As soon as I get attached, a new bunny
becomes the best friend. I am going to need a support group…filled with stuffed
bunnies who can commiserate.
Why does this bother me? What is it about the Butchos,
Wuzzys, and Winter Mangroves out there? (Let’s be honest, I doubt there are
many Winter Mangroves floating around, but you get the idea.) I think it’s the
idea that the kids are growing and changing and frankly, I’m just not ready.
They see an old stuffed orange cat, and I see years of this cat being in our
lives, being loved by my Moose. Each bunny that becomes a supporting actor to a
new main lead actor means that a little more time has passed. And one day, all
of these bunnies will be under the bed as having imaginary friends will become
“uncool.”
This is the cycle of life, right? Enjoy the moment, blah
blah blah. I’m trying. I’m trying to see wonder in my youngest’s eyes and I
hope that spark always remains. I watch my oldest navigate the world of middle
school and hope he keeps a sense of humor. It is tough roads up ahead. Friends
get confusing and school gets hard. And sometimes we could all use a stuffed
animal to snuggle with at night, no matter how old we are. I hope they remember
that and know it’s okay. Wuzzy and Fisher Butcher are waiting.
*Yes, the Squirrel has named each and every one of these rabbits himself. Plus there is also Grasser Rapper, an actual real live bunny he caught (and released) this summer. I had suggested naming him Thumper. Silly me.
