Now I know exactly where it came from--the Island of Misfit Toys! As discussed in the Weird 6, I used to feel very guilty as a child about stuffed animals, like if I ever left one out of the goings-on, or if I ever considered giving one away? The feeling would haunt me in my dreams. Still to this day I have a monkey named Ben in my closet with scratched eyes and a cotton-bleeding torso, as well as Ziggy and Zaggy, the space creatures that are so worn they have furless patches and limp litle arms. And I just know if I sent them off into the world of donations, they would be chucked. I would feel forever sad.Anyway--I swear it all came from the Island of Misfit Toys. The Rudolph special, which I love with all of my heart, essentially confirmed my deepest childhood suspicions that toys have feelings. And if you don't love them, they sit around and cry, absolutely heartbroken. My favorite character in all of Rudolphland was and continues to be the Charlie-in-the-box. Because no child wants to play with a Charlie-in-the-Box! he says, grief-stricken. I always felt like I could relate, too, to the Island's inhabitants, like that little something about me that us *off* deterred the masses from thinking I was special. It's why I'll never be famous--I'm a misfit, forever and ever, though at least by now I know to be proud.
2 comments:
and they often come alive. hopefully not with knives.
I would play with a Charlie in the Box. But then again, there was like a three year period where I named all my stuffed animals either Willie or Wilbur, so I probably made them into misfit toys, whether they started that way or not.
Willie is still my favorite stuffed animal, though. He gets to sit up on the bookshelf, out of reach of the dog.
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