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One of the many reasons that I will not tar myself with the brush of ‘adult’ is because I still have a use for teddy bears.
There is one which lives on, in or beside my bed, depending on the level of movement the night before or who makes the bed in the morning (he is sometimes forgotten by my other half). This bears name is Polo Two & he is obviously a polar bear.
Polo the First met a devestating end in an ancient washing machine & after careful consideration, the polar bear that was bought as a replacement agreed to carry on the moniker.
Polo Two is my comfort blanket. He is my belly support when I am sick & need something soft to squeeze into my abdomen. He is my tear collector when I am sad, & frankly is the only one I trust to keep them safe.
There are several stuffed toys around my house, & not a one of them would I give up for the title of ‘adult’, mostly atributed to the fact that I cannot see myself in that role which I assigned to ‘grown ups’ when I was small. There is nothing more like a curse than the words ‘be an adult’ thrown at you.
These teddy bears & stuffed friends come from many places & span years of my life. I have been acquainted with some of them since I was in nappies. Some are more recent friends but loved no more & no less. In fact, when I moved in with my other half, I subjected him to (what I imagine to have been torturous, I mean what had he let himself in for) an introduction to every single one of the stuffed friends I had including their name, bio, place of origin & special talents. This is no word of a lie, any one of you can ask him, although I’m not sure he’d care to admit he shacked up with a lunatic.
Polo Two, however, remains one of my favourites & is given pride of place as my bed-mate & is often used to torment my other half when I am particularly mischievous, & the vulnerable inside of his ear is pointing towards me as he sleeps.
In short, who would want to give up teddy bears for adulthood; these little friends are as precious as the day they were gifted to our little hands & encouraged to accompany us everywhere until someone decided we were ‘getting a bit old for that’. Personally I’m very happy with my fluffy companions, however long I’ve had them. In fact, whenever anyone asks what to get me as a present, I always say ‘you can’t go wrong with teddy bears, chocolate or silver jewellery’.

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