Its strange, isn’t it, that even after years of being grown up, old favourite childhood toys can still bring some comfort. I’m currently sat on my bed at home with Red Ted, Pink Ted, two other teds (that I can’t remember the names of but they both squeak), a pink rabbit, Kanga and Roo (named after Kanga and Roo, but not actually them) and Little Bear (actually Little Bear). And Nicola, my favourite doll, is sat on my chair, fully dressed and presentable, looking at me intently.
Every so often I enjoy getting all my old toys out of the cupboard and remembering the happy times we spent together when I was little. To be fair though, most of the teddybears I listed above were Rachel’s, except for Little Bear, who was very definitely mine. Along with the extra sets of clothes, made specially for him, after I told my Gran how sad it was that he only had one pair of trousers.
So what is it about these toys which still, after all these years, provide comfort? Is it the sentimental value? The memories? The need to hang onto the innocence of childhood when life isn’t amazingly great? Is it just me who enjoys a good old play every now and then? One things for certain – I’m not going to get rid of these toys for a Very Long Time.