We have more stuffed animals than the state of Michigan has jobs. I sometimes forget how many we have until I open a closet door and they come falling out in a pile at my feet. It’s not just there, they are everywhere and I am sick of it. I have asked the kids many times to eliminate some of their least favorites and there is always a reason why we should keep them. “You know that grandma gave me that when I was born.” How the hell would you know, did I slip up and tell you that?
I have started bagging up a few at a time when the kids aren’t around, hoping they don’t notice when it’s just a small bag at a time. Unfortunately my kids are like coon hounds and can smell the vacancy of one of the 18,000 stuffed animals as soon as it goes missing. They have interrogation skills that could break the top criminal minds, but only if they had taken one of their beloved stuffed animals, they don’t concern themselves with less important crimes like robbery or murder.
Recently they have gone on a Webkinz kick because they can pull all their stuffed animals out and leave them all over the house, while they occupy my laptop. I understand that buying your computerized pet clothes and decorating their rooms are a high priority, but mommy needs to try to work a bit also. One of the stuffies I recently “donated” is the one my oldest daughter is looking for and she is slick with her questions. “Mom, are YOU sure YOU don’t know where my clown fish webkinz went?” “No, I have no idea, maybe you should clean your room and see if you can find it?” She knows, I know she knows and she knows I know she knows, but I am not breaking this time.
They are also on a Build-A-Bear kick with the money they got for their birthdays. I keep explaining that stuffed animals are a waste of money, but they respond with, “Build-A-Bear is not a stuffed animal, it is a FRIEND!” Oh please and these are just vitamins I take every day and not pills to stop me from having a breakdown. It is quite a racket, build the bear, buy the clothes and accessories and then more clothes and more friends for the bears to play and then more clothes for those new bears. It is like a pyramid scheme and I would not be surprised to open up the bear and find an ‘Amway’ label in it.
My kids have pretty original names for all their stuffed animals. Let’s see, this one is Kitty (cat), this one is Baby Great Wolf (from Great Wolf Lodge), this one is Mr. Squirrel (you guess) and of course we have Pecker the long billed bird from grandpa. After several conversations about the ‘Pecker from grandpa’ we got her to change it’s name to Beaks. My older daughter having maybe a stitch more creativity finds a name she likes and then names the rest of the animals numerically. This is Cris, this is Cris #2, this is Cris #3…you get the picture. I can’t keep any of them straight so I just point.
I am also confused about what to do with stuffed animals. I don’t want someone’s used stuffed animal and I am assuming the same goes for ours. I see how my kids sleep and eat and slobber on these things and it grosses me out. “Mommy, you want to sleep with kitty tonight?” Hell no I don’t, not unless it can be bleached or hospital sanitized somehow. My oldest daughter’s favorite stuffy is a tiny lamb that doesn’t really look like a lamb anymore, more like a rabid possum with the mange. We have asked her to give it up and even offered to put it in her ‘special box’ for when she is grown but she is not budging on lambie. I wash it pretty regularly but every time I see her rubbing it against her cheek I want to move it and rub some Clorox where it was.
You would think I have more important things to bitch about, but apparently I don’t. It’s Friday, it has rained all week and I have been stuck in the house looking at the mess the kids leave behind. But it is Friday and that means I can enjoy an adult beverage and sleep in tomorrow. Let’s hope I don’t wake up with lambie stuck against my face.