I've still found myself thinking about the wonderful movie, Toy Story 3 that I saw last weekend with Mr. Tennis. I passed by this guy today as I walked through the bedroom:
He has no name that I know of. Obviously some vicious child chewed his ears and nose and the poor guy doesn't even have eyes anymore, but yet he is still smiling. Probably because he knows EVERYTHING about me. You see, my father rushed from work to the hospital where I was born and placed this fella in my bassinet when I was three hours old. Three hours old! And I still have him. As a young child I must have asked my dad countless times about the story of this bear, the only thing I remember is that I was 3! Hours! Old!
I may not remember the early days, but this bear has been everywhere with me. Every move I made, he obviously followed me - I recall that he may even have come to college with me. As I said, he has seen my whole life and obviously approved of Mr. Tennis. If this bear could talk, well, most of you would be quite bored. I may not recall my father giving me that bear, but I remember towards the end of my dad's life carting that bear over to the nursing home where he lived to see if he would remember. "I gave that to you when you were three hours old", he said.