"Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but sometimes he feels that there really is another way, if only he could stop bumping a moment and think of it. And then, he feels that perhaps there isn't. Anyhow, here he is at the bottom, and ready to be introduced to you. Winnie-the-Pooh." A.A. Milne.
Everyone had a bear when they were a kid. I had a small brown one - who I loved dearly. Dilly was his name - given by a lady named Dolly (mom's friend).
Josh has one - a Pooh bear given to me by my friend and taken from me by Josh when he was 2. Pooh used to be a plump, fluffy, bright yellow teddy bear. He saw his bear hanging on the clothesline once - I failed to hide it from him - and he almost freaked out. He saw Pooh once in the dryer and didn't know what to make of it. He sleeps with Pooh. He buries his face on Pooh's tummy when he cries. He hides behind Pooh's head when he is watching something scary. He wrestles with Pooh. He tosses the Pooh-r bear around.
When he was younger, we would agrue about me not allowing him to tag along the 24" bear to the mall.
But a teddy bear isn't a teddy bear unless it is all worn out - never mind his limp arms, his worn out nose. Never mind if he has lost his shirt. Never mind. He is after all, a teddy bear.
He loves his bear.
I think his brother will too.