My Squishy

When I was three or four years old, I would attend a day care called Kindercare while my mom and dad worked. My mom convinced me that Kindercare was "school," so I would feel less like I was just being dumped off at a childcare facility. But that's what it was, and looking back now, I would have been this much happier to live with my grandparents again. We lived in Kearns. And for those of you who don't live in Utah, or never had, Kearns is one of the worst places in Utah to live. Though I never was gunned down or gutted for my drug money, I still spent quite some time sleeping in fear of those things. Actually. I was more afraid of vampires, but is it not frightening nonetheless? It wasn't until one fateful day at Kindercare that I finally was able to sleep clutching onto solidified security.

I had been excited for quite some time about this new concept called Show and Tell. I do believe it had been my first, but alas! I had forgotten my show and tell item! So as I wept, my mother continued to take me through the halls of Kindercare, her tears probably just as willing to drip from her own nose. [My mother was chronically depressed until a few years ago.] And then, one of my favorite teachers offered me the choice of picking an item from her item box to show. I did so. This was the beginning of Squishy's and my loving relationship.

Often times, I would borrow Squishy from his item box to hold him to my breast as we all gathered 'round the communal television screen and watched a kid-friendly movie. I would borrow him to ease my transition into naptime, [a naptime which I believe sparked the insomnia that continues to haunt me.] and over the years, Squishy became closer to me than my own family. When my teacher had to move away, she told me that Squishy would be much more happier as part of my family than part of her item box, and I was very thankful.

So, dear Squishy, I've declared this day as our honorary tenth anniversary. Exactly ten years since I first took you home and tucked you into the nook of my arm. Exactly ten years since you fought off my bad dreams of vampire gangstas. And I promise you that no matter what happens, I'll always remember the little brown bear who could, my little brown bear, my Squishy.