And the worst part with stuffed animals is that I don’t even feel right about donating even washed ones because they just seem like they would house all sorts of germs or minuscule bugs or dust mites or something. I don’t throw away any that my kids currently sleep with or are madly in love with, but that creepy purple monkey that fell behind my kid’s dresser and she hasn’t payed attention to in weeks? Out he goes.
And the worst part about all of this? My kids never notice. Both my older ones are pretty much over stuffed animals, but on occasion my 10-year-old will have to have one. I got him an amazing squid for Christmas that is all huge and awesome and I don’t think he even knows where it is. I have probably tossed four different stuffed animals in the last week including one that lived on my daughter’s bed and she hasn’t noticed. And it’s not like their rooms are super packed with toys or anything. Maybe she just assumed the dog ate it, which is a fate that has befallen many stuffed toys that have been brought into my house. So not only do I have to deal with these dust-collectors, when the dog finds one I get to deal with finding the stuffed innards underneath my bed that has, on occasion, become the stuffed animal wasteland of various limbs and ripped off eyeballs.
I have packed away any really beloved ones they had as babies to save for their kids if they should have them, or anything super cool or that came from a special trip somewhere, but I just can’t be sentimental about some ugly bunny that came from the discount store that my kid had to have as a birthday gift that now lives in the bottom of the toy bin. Velveteen Rabbit, my ass.