Tigey and Rabby in da house
When I was a kid, I had a fertile imagination. Okay, let's say it clearly -- I was nuts. I owned many stuffed animals, and they were REAL. I mean, r-e-a-l. I played with them all the time, and had wrestling tournaments with them. Two of my three favorites remain with me to this day, sitting in my closet. They come out whenever I have friends over for movies or games. I set them in prominent places because it totally freaks out Joel and Stacey.
These two favorites are a stuffed tiger named Tigey, whom I bought with Christmas money when I was about 5, and a rabbit named Rabby who was given to me by my grandpa on my first Easter. Actually Rabby is more like a Rabbit-man, or a WereBunny. He stands upright on two legs and he has two arms. Maybe that's why the mere sight of him makes Joel cry like a little girl and Stacey wet herself like a baby.
Or maybe it's the fact that he looks like a mummy. Like I said, I had wrestling tournaments with my animals, and we went on all kinds of rough-and-tumble adventures together, so they're not in such good shape now. In fact, poor Rabby was stitched together so many times by my Grandma, and masking-taped together so often by me, that he does look kind of macabre.
Tigey is in slightly better shape, but he's one-eyed and has a slit throat. Menacing, apparently (I got menaced by a real dog the other day at the TARC stop, but that's another story. If Rabby and Tigey would have been there, that dog would be pushing up daisies or sleeping with the fishes by now).
Speaking of fishes, you're probably asking (because I know this story has riveted you) what happened to the other of my Three Amigo stuffed animals. Well, he was a stuffed fish named Fishy (okay, when I said I was an imaginative kid, I wasn't refering to my animal-naming technique). Actually, he was a big pillow that my grandma had stitched for me, using a fish pattern. A stitched-pillow -- rather scratchy. He was great for pillow fights. No kid wanted to be slugged with Fishy, because the rough surface practically ripped skin off.
Fishy would be with me now, in his own place of honor within my closet, if my mom had not THROWN HIM AWAY BY "MISTAKE" ONE TIME. Don't think I've let her forget it.
I haven't. Nor shall I ever.
May you rest in peace, Fishy. Someday, Rabby, Tigey, and I will join you in that great wilderness in the sky. We shall swim in your stream and you shall dance in our meadow. Until then, old buddy, go rest high upon that mountain. Underwater mountain. Or whatever.
posted by Bobby @ 11:16 AM
4 comments
4 Comments:
One of my stuffed animals had a sort-of interesting name. He was actually just a camping pillow with Aztec print design -- not a stuffed animal. But I treated him like one, and he was a mighty warrior in my Stuffed Animal Wrestling Federation. I didn't think "Pillowy" sounded good, so I called him "Pellet."
Don't make me suspend you from the Jive To The Monkey studio audience for a day.
"Quothe the Rabby, 'Nevermore'."
Okay, this post tops them all. I was laughing so hard under my breath that I couldn't control it and actually made noise...SO...now Colleen has your blog address so she, too, can be amused by your insanity.
And the only reason I don't feel a need to give a disclaimer for calling you insane is that you treated a CAMPING PILLOW like a stuffed animal. That is one of the funniest things I've heard in a long time...
And I've seen Rabby AND Tigey. They are slightly frightening, but your amigos should cut them some slack. They've apparently been through a LOT---and had to carry around those simplistic monikers their whole little lives, too. Bless their little stuffed hearts.
Yes, I should have known that in Lorie's world, the scars from battle would be less damaging than having to live with simplistic monikers.
But thanks for being able to look at their hideousness without turning away. You would have been great for the self-esteem of Quasimodo or the Phantom of the Opera, little k.
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