First and foremost, don't be scared. Your boy Teddy is doing just fine right now. This picture is from a few months ago when I broke my arm. I've had the cast taken off and I'm fully functional (especially for you ladies out there). This post is all about cosmetic surgery and my need for a lift/tuck and re-stuff.
I'm coming up on my 34th birthday which is stupid-old for a teddy bear. And we're not talking a cushy, easy 34 years either. Tony got me for his first Easter and for those first couple of years I just sat on a shelf overlooking his crib. Then when he was a toddler he started sleeping with me (in a totally Innocent way... don't be a sicko). It went on like that for years. Each night when lil Greazy turned in he would hold me in the crook of his arm the whole night till he awoke.
What finally ended this sleeping arrangement was when he went off to the seminary. He took me along, but I spent my nights (and days for that matter) in his closet, and believe you me, I wasn't the only secret hidden in a closet at that place. After two years in the seminary he returned to a regular high school but by then he had moved on to a blanket to clutch while sleeping. So I sat dutifully on the table next to his bed ever since. High school, college, marriage and homonership have all come along and I'm still here with him.
An enduring friendship to say the least.
But all that time has ravaged the Tedster. When we were little Greazy didn't exactly treat me like a treasured friend. He cut all the hair off the top of my head thinking it would grow back. As adorable as that youthful naivete was, it meant I have been bald up there for the better part of three decades. He also sliced my tail open and removed all the stuffing there within. He was really kind of a bastard when he got a hold of some scissors.
In the end, however, most of the damage was just common wear and tear caused by a boy clutching his teddy. Luckily his mom was and expert with a needle so while my arms and legs are held on literally by a thread, at least I still have them. Which is more than I can say for my nose, which his evil brother Junior cut off and threw down into the basement. Which was twice as evil because he knew quite well that the basement scared the shit out of lil Greazy. So, my nose was never retrieved.
I think you'll agree I've led a hard life. I'm like the teddy bear version of Charlie Sheen or Mick Jagger... body wise. So, I think the time has come for me to get some work done. I've found a few places on the web that specialize in teddy bear surgery and one that's not too far from where we live. So, I'm hoping that when Tony gets his broke ass back to work he'll send me for the whole work up. Ideally, I'd like to be re-stuffed and re-sewn. Also, I'd like to get my eyes replaced because both of mine are chipped. I know there's nothing they can do to replace my missing fur, since those bastards in Big Pharma aren't working to come up with a teddy bear Rogaine. I guess all that would be left after that would be to get my tail sewn up and to get a good thorough cleaning.
A bear can dream can't he?