30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 7

Your favorite childhood toys.

Childhood. Ah. Seems like light years away. I honestly can’t even remember what childhood toys I played with. My mom says that I liked playing with Barbies, as in dressing them up and doing their hair. I wasn’t like my little sister, Angie, where she completely destroyed and mauled her Barbies *shivers*

I honestly can’t remember what toys I played with or ones I loved and adored. But there is on toy/stuffed animal in particular that I’ve kept since I was eight. His name is Mr. Bunny and he’s a stuffed pink little bunny rabbit with an orange carrot. If I knew where he was – I think he’s in a box somewhere – I’d take a picture of him for all of you to see! 🙂 But I honestly don’t know where he is..

I’m such a bad owner.

Anyways, when I was in third grade I found out that I was moving to Vegas. That news shook my entire world. I remember crying at night and hating that I had to leave everyone I knew and loved behind. I remember that my class grade hosted a goodbye party for me. The teachers that I had all got me something. The only things I remember were receiving a journal, which my evil sister April destroyed, and Mr. Bunny.

The months that followed the move were the hardest. All I had was Mr. Bunny there for me. I would curl up in bed for the night and just hold him tight, wanting and wishing so badly to be back in California. I wrote in my journal how I felt up until it was destroyed. After the first two years, I finally came to terms of living in Vegas. It was hard, but as I look back at it I realize that I wouldn’t go back and change the decision if I could. If I did then I wouldn’t have met all the wonderful and bad people that came into my life, shaping me into the kind of person I am today.

The whole point of the story is that as crazy or stupid as it sounds, Mr. Bunny was the only real friend I had in that life-altering period of my life. Even as I got older there were times when I was going through some rough patches and I’d clamber out of bed and grab Mr. Bunny. It was the only way I could get a decent amount of sleep, just holding him to my chest. I felt safe and sound and it’s something I’ll never forget as corny as it sounds.

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1 Comment

  1. Like you I dn’t really remember favourite toy as such, we had sindy dolls (a british version of barbie) an my sister would scalp my dolls if she got mad over anything


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