G loves stuffed animals. She really, really loves them. In the beginning, there was one favourite- Lambert. He's a lamb, he's small and he was a perfect thing to drag around. Then, Bear (aka Edward Bear, aka Pooh Bear) joined the list of favourites, and she would be satisfied with either of those two at night, or when we went out.
Now, she has no less then ten animals that can be slept with, taken with her when we go places, lined up around the house, fed, diapered and dressed and most especially, demanded at any specific time. I'm a little nervous that she's going to be babysat one of these days and the sitter will have no clue which animal she is wanting to sleep with. Some of the names are obvious - Frog, Puppy, Dinosaur, Monkey - others are a bit more confusing.
"Boston" is a teddy, a very dilapidated and frankly, frightening teddy bear. He was Paul's childhood bear, actually originally belonging to his older brother. He has no eyes or features to speak of, is falling to bits, stuffing coming out everywhere, and is so worn, I can't even sew the holes without some very serious patchwork. I would love to throw him out, but he would be missed.
"Florence The Lamb" is not that confusing, but G tends to blend her name into "YawenceDaYam", which I don't expect anyone but me to understand.
The best of all is Octopus.
This is Octopus:
This stuffed animal thing has gotten out of hand.
But we don't have a baby doll. Or a cat. Or a bunny. And I want all those things for her.
So, perhaps it's me who has gotten out of hand.