Wilkie (the bear) has been loved a bit too much. It happens with every bed-bear eventually. I haven't posted his actual photo because he is a bit shame at his appearance.Now I really only had one bear before John and I became bearants (no, not parents, bearants) to our hoarde. And some we got just as love-bears and some were bed-bears.
Well I have loved all of the bed-bears to the point of ... well I can't love them anymore. Wilkie has had a sore throat for for past couple of years and despite repeated surgeries to repair the damage, it hasn't helped. Now other bits need surgery.
Now at 37 I don't think I am old enough to sleep without a bear yet but getting new bears was always a family thing we did with months, if not years of consultation. And we always planned that Gareth would be out last.
So now I need to go on a bear search by myself - not sure how long it will take. I did think about asking a special friend (and I have a few of them) to buy me one but no, this is my journey and something I must do alone. The search for the perfect bed-bear is on (before Wilkie falls apart completely) and I just hope the blended family works as well as the existing one does :-)
2 comments:
Try ebay? or pack a lunch and we will spend the day looking for perfect bear...
The perfect bear... very soft fur, very squeezably-soft and pliable, cuddly, and floppy.
I have a bear that my mother won at a carnival when she was a girl. Not sure how old she was, but I reckon the bear is about 45-50 years old. He's not all that cuddly, but I keep him around just the same.
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