If teddies could talk...
They were adults when we were small. They know the reasons why we cried into their fur. They witnessed our childhood homes, our relationships with our siblings, and they probably read our diaries, too. And they loved us. The days were long while they waited for us to come home from school, I've heard. But most of all, they knew us when we were young and innocent.
If your old teddy rang your doorbell now, what do you think he'd say during a private fireside chat, after you'd fainted from shock and then invited him in? Would he be proud of you? Or would he pretend he'd got the wrong house?
They were adults when we were small. They know the reasons why we cried into their fur. They witnessed our childhood homes, our relationships with our siblings, and they probably read our diaries, too. And they loved us. The days were long while they waited for us to come home from school, I've heard. But most of all, they knew us when we were young and innocent.
If your old teddy rang your doorbell now, what do you think he'd say during a private fireside chat, after you'd fainted from shock and then invited him in? Would he be proud of you? Or would he pretend he'd got the wrong house?
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