The bear returns
When I was a girl, I had a teddy bear named Boo Boo. He was big (around the same size I was when I got him) and red and white, and he entered my life when I was one. The story goes that when I tried to say "bear," it came out "buh," and the name Boo Boo was born. Not long after I got him, my mother tried to wash him. According to family lore, he survived the washing machine, but not the dryer. Enter Boo Boo number two, who has survived -- unwashed -- to this day. He's big, too, burgundy and gold. I still remember how it felt to cuddle up with him when I was sad; I used to wipe my tears with his paw. I slept with him every night, even on trips away from home. At the airport I would plop him on the baggage claim conveyor belt and pick him back up when he came around again.
Somewhere along the way, he lost an eye and gained some clothes: a t-shirt that used to be mine, and a worn pair of yellow overalls. On a trip to Faneuil Hall in Boston, I went to the Bear Necessity store and picked up some bear-themed underwear for him. I recall a little suit jacket I rescued from a rummage sale; Boo Boo never actually wore it, but I always considered it to be his formal wear. At some point, I pinned to it a pair of wings from one of Boo Boo's many flights. I made up a birthday for him (August 1) and used to throw him birthday parties will the other stuffed animals.
For a while, Boo Boo stuck with me. My parents were stunned when I matter-of-factly placed him in the trunk of the car as we headed off for my freshman year of college. I've lost track of where Boo Boo spent my twenties; if he was with me in my succession of apartments during those years, he was in the back of a closet somewhere. More likely he was at my parents' house. Wherever he'd spent that decade, when my first child was born Boo Boo reappeared, to be added unceremoniously to the growing pile of stuffed animals in the baby's room. He has been pretty much ignored since then. A few years ago those yellow overalls disintegrated, so I dressed him in a pair of my son's denim overalls, and that was that. My oldest is now eight, and Boo Boo has been sitting quietly in a corner of his room for years.
But now, Boo Boo has returned, in a big way. A few nights ago, the night before the last day of second grade, my son wandered yet again into our room. I pleaded with him to return to bed, but he claimed that his sheets were too cold. This boy just loves to cuddle with a warm body, plain and simple. And finally it occurred to me that he might just need a big furry friend to curl up with. He went to sleep with Boo Boo that night, and every night since.
I won't say Boo Boo has solved the sleep issues, but suddenly he's entered our lives again and is bringing joy to my kids. My son just loves the fact that, through years of shifting and rearranging, Boo Boo's stuffing has worn in such fashion that this bear actually has a butt. I confess, it is hysterical. My son has been showing it off to his friends much to their eight-year-old delight, all the while sleeping with Boo Boo at night and even dressing him up during the day. As I write this, Boo Boo is lying on the floor of our playroom, dressed like a pirate. The poor bear spent half the afternoon playing the hapless bad guy to my three-year-old son's good pirate. While it was adorable to watch, my heart skipped a beat every time Boo Boo was struck with the tiny plastic sword.
My daughter, meanwhile, has started wearing Boo Boo's t-shirt. Over thirty years ago, this shirt went straight from my back to his, and now it's gone from his back to hers. It fits her like a glove. She wore it to the last day of school, and sleeps in it at night.
You can bet that this year on August 1 there's going to be quite the birthday party at our house.
This beloved childhood friend is now being loved and adored by my own children. And while I adored Boo Boo as a child, now this bear is warming my heart in a whole new way.
Welcome back, old friend. It's nice to see you around again.
This is an original post to Philly Moms Blog.
