Warming Up

My daughter has a lot of cuddly toys. Her favourites are Froggy (a frog) and Fluffy Rabbit (a fluffy rabbit) who she insists on having at bed time and will panic if she wakes up in the night and is unable to locate them. There are loads of others that get the honour of sharing her bed, but none of them are as essential and occasionally, like in a real life Toy Story, one gets demoted.

Recently the toy that she decided she no longer liked or required was Ooo ooo (a monkey) who she has had since she was a baby. Now I love Ooo ooo. He/she even featured in one of my routines and I totally associate the toy with Phoebe as a baby. In fact as the baby Phoebe has disappeared from our lives to be replaced by this huge child, Ooo ooo pretty much represents Phoebe as a baby and it was slightly heartbreaking for me that my daughter declared she didn’t want the monkey any more. Not even just as a bonus player in the pile of toys. Exiled out of the bedroom entirely.

I still love Ooo ooo/ baby Phoebe and I didn’t want to give them away or put them in a box, so I took Ooo ooo and put them on the window-sill in front of my desk, right next to a photo of the baby who loved it, but now rejects it. It smiles down at me happily, like it isn’t phased by the relegation. The monkey makes me happy and sad at the same time and is a reminder of what I’ve lost and gained. Maybe Phoebe will come to love him/her again. Maybe they will sit on the window sill till I am gone. Maybe it will be the play thing of my grandchild. 

 I still love you Ooo ooo. As long as someone loves you, you will be saved from the bin.