I'm willing to bet that anyone reading this had a favorite stuffed animal when they were younger. Maybe you still do. I definitely do, and her name is Penelope. Penelope is a black and white pig about the size of a loaf of bread. She's been with me since I was five and has been pretty constant in my life.
It turns out that when my mom bought Penelope for me, she actually bought two of the same pig. I didn't receive -- let alone know about -- the second one until sixth grade. Which is the year I had Swine Flu. I know right? My mom was powerless in the face of the irony. I named "new Penelope" Lydia and even though they're the same stuffed animal, Lydia still hasn't replaced Penelope. Penelope is worn and soft, whereas Lydia is silky and smooth. Penelope has been to Maine, Georgia, Florida, Colorado, and Massachusetts; Lydia has never left the house. For these reasons, Penelope is so much more important to me. It's strange, considering she's not really real, but our "shared" experiences make her so comforting.
To be completely honesty, I was a bit hesitant about writing this. Maybe because this is a part of me that is slighting more private, or maybe because it seemed like a childish topic. But then I realized: as high-schoolers, we want nearly nothing more than to be able to revert to our childhood. So here's hoping that this post will remind you of your favorite stuffed animal and possibly even inspire you to find that plush friend, take a moment, and remember an easier and more relaxing time of your life.
Best wishes for your snow day,
Maria
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