The Story of Old Ted...

I don't usually publish the same post on both of my blogs, but was inspired by futuregirl's post and contest on softies to write a little about my much-loved childhood softie Old Ted, and I figured it fit well in both blogs.

My first Christmas, I received a plethora of stuffed animals and softies, but for some reason an unassuming brown plush bear from a family friend caught my attention. From that point on, Old Ted (as he later became known) and I were BFF's.



Old Ted went everywhere I did during my early years. He was my bedtime companion, and he was my couch buddy, and it wasn't long before the amount of love he was receiving began to take a physical toll on the little guy. No longer a plush, fluffy thing, he began losing hair on his belly (poor guy, how embarrassing!) and lost his ability to sit up on his own accord due to lost stuffing due to many (I'm sure distressing) trips through the washer and dryer.




One day my parents, who obviously had the poor bears best interests at heart and were hoping to alleviate some of his suffering, decided to buy me a new bear. This "replacement" was cute and cuddly, but apparently just didn't meet my standards. He was named "New Ted," and Old Ted officially became, well, "Old Ted" (stating the obvious, much?)

So Old Ted continued with me on the journey's of life. He rode on trains...



He met Mickey Mouse...



Went through a confusing phase where I made him wear a pink dress...



He was even lucky enough to partake in no less than six family vacations to the island of Cyprus, and even visited the Tombs of the Kings.



He was nothing if not well traveled!

Somewhere along the way he accumulated some blue shorts from one of my dolls (lucky guy!) and a tee-shirt with the message "I'm your bedtime bear." This was the outfit he remained in.

As I grew out of the soft toy phase, Old Ted still made trips with me - albiet a little more subtly. He's lived in every dorm room, apartment, and house that I ever have. Nowadays he resides in my craft room, propped up on a shelf because he can't hold himself up. There's not a day that I don't look at him and smile. He's old, he's balding, his clothes don't fit, and his eyes are scratched up. He's TRULY a softie only a mother could love and love him I do.