JENN McKINLAY: Recently, my mom unearthed an ancient photograph of my brother’s best stuffie, Teddy, and my best stuffie, Spotty, lined up against a wall, looking rather like they were trying to stage a prison break. Can’t say that I blame them given that my brother and I took them on all of our misadventures and they certainly suffered for it. Tree climbing, camping, swimming in the Housatonic River, ice skating, you name it, our ride or die pals were always at our sides. My poor Spotty got so worn out - it might have been that fateful day we tied him to a skateboard and sent him down a hill into a pond that did it - I finally had to swaddle him in my pink blanket to hold all of his bits together. Yes, I doubled up as a blankie and a stuffie kid.
My hooligans carried on the tradition with H1 carrying Hair Bear everywhere he went and H2 soon joining the ranks with his wing man Woobie Dog. We frequently threw birthday parties for them, mostly so Mom (me) had an excuse to have cake for lunch. Quite a sacrifice there! Hair Bear and Woobie Dog traveled everywhere with us when the Hooligans were young. One of my biggest parental fears was that we might lose one of them en route to or from our summer house in Nova Scotia. Thankfully, this never happened. Also, I can not tell you how endearing it is to check on your teenage son when he’s going through a particularly tough time and find his stuffie back on his pillow keeping watch over his boy. (Sob). Believe me, there are days I wish I could drag Spotty and my pink blanket out of my Mom’s attic and have them watch over me.
So, tell me, Reds , who was your companion as a child? Stuffie? Blankie? Imaginary friend? What was your source of comfort and companionship? Do you still have them?
RHYS BOWEN: I don’t remember stuffed animals as a toddler. I had a family of imaginary friends called the Gott family. Four sisters: Gorna Gott, Leur Gott, Googoo Gott and Perambulator Gott. They had to do everything with us. You can tell I was a weird and lonely child living only surrounded by adults. I didn’t get my first teddy bear until my 21st birthday. I complained I’d never had one so my mum went to Hamleys on Regent Street to choose one. After about 24 bears were discarded the salesman said “ Madam, just what is wrong with these bears?”
Mummy looked surprised and said “we want a bear with a nice smile’”. So Henry Bear has a suitably bemused expression and I still have him!
HALLIE EPHRON: I didn’t have a stuffie or a blankie. Closest thing was my Susie doll, a baby doll with a rubber head, arms, and legs, and a stuffed body. I pretty much wore her out.
My kids both had stuffies AND blankies. Naomi had a stuffed pig named Piggie. Molly a stuffed leopard name Spotty Leopard. And there was a little pillow (named Pillie) that went everywhere with one of them -- when we left on an airplane, it triggered a collective nervous breakdown. My daughter is so smart with her kids -- they’re both attached to blankies. Naomi has a cache of identical blankets and when one devolves into tatters (or gets left on a plane) she hauls out a replacement.
DEBORAH CROMBIE: I was a stuffie kid. No dolls, only stuffed animals. (I thought dolls were creepy.) My earliest memory is of being put down in my crib for a nap and playing with all my stuffed animals instead. The one that survived into my adolescence was Tigger. Not the Disney/Winnie the Pooh Tigger, just a stuffed tiger.
My daughter had Horsey (a pale blue stuffed carousel horse) and a blankie, which was one of her baby quilts. I think she still has Horsey somewhere. He's very worn out!
Deb's Bob
And I have Bob (which I've also given to Charlotte, the little girl in my books.) He's a floppy pale green elephant. I saw him in the window of a children's shop quite a few years ago and it was love at first sight. I have even stuffed him into my suitcase a few times for long trips, so he's an international elephant. (Who needs a wash, I think, but I always feel a bit cruel putting him through the washing machine. What can he be thinking?)
LUCY BURDETTE: the names of all these creatures crack me up!
I had a whole cast of stuffed animals, mostly cats, all covered in colored rabbit skin and fur. The original and most beloved was FUZZY WUZZY. After that Wuzzy Fuzzy, Tangerine, Mothball, Licorice and some others were added. I played with them with my sister Susan for hours--dolls too. I finally had to throw the entire lot out when I was living in Florida and roaches ate the fur leaving every one of them bald.
Hallie, your daughter is so smart. Our grandkids both have stuffies and there’s no sleeping without them. At the end of their visit in February, Henry’s stuffie disappeared. They spent 2 hours searching and finally had to leave for the airport. It was a rough two days and we still suspect that Dorothea threw it in the bushes...
What about you, Readers, what was your ride or die comfort object as a kid?
One more thing I forgot to say--Lottie puppy has a stuffie now too. It has a little heart with a battery inside that beats like her mother’s did:). We give it to her at night, and when she’s done with it, I’m going to take it over...
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| Lottie's Snuggle Puppy |
HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: I’d never even heard the word “stuffie” until recently. Such a strange word. I apparently had a blue blankie, which according to Mom, eventually just disintegrated and vanished into the ether--I wound up carrying a scrap of it. I had a Stieff horse, a fuzzy one called Cinnamon (guess what color) and I was quite fond of him. Dolls, no. Agreed, Debs, I thought they were creepy. Weird eyes, just looking at you, expecting you to DO something, and I never understood what. Mom says my passion was a white felt cowboy hat, which I insisted on wearing all the time, and would only take off in the summer when I got a straw one.
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| A look alike for Hank's Horse |
JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: My stuffie story is rather bland - I had Susan Bear, who traveled round the world with me, managed to survive the somewhat ruthless weeding out of old toys my mother did whenever we moved (military transport allowances aren’t generous) and ended up in the possession of Youngest.
She is the true stuffie connoisseur - she has dozens, and I have so far been unable to persuade her to part with any of them. One is supremely special: Mr. Froggie, who was a gift from my brother and sister in law when Youngest was born. As near as I can tell, they have not spent a night apart since then - even when Youngest was in hospital for five days after her mandibular surgery last summer, Mr. Froggy sat guard on the windowsill. I have no doubt that if she's elected to the presidency of the United States (her current ambition) Mr. Froggy will take up residence in the White House as the First Stuffie.
What about you, Readers, what was your ride or die comfort object as a kid?
