Miss C.'s mama received me as a gift from her parents when she lost her bid for school secretary back in 4th grade. They wrapped me and my matching envelopes in pretty paper decorated with ice cream cones. A tiny pot of bubble-gum scented lip gloss was tied to the outside of the pretty package.
She had been so disappointed that day, but I remember the delighted look on her face when she opened up her gift. And I remember her mommy and daddy telling her that they were proud of her not matter what happened. She had given the election her best and that's all that mattered.
Twenty years later and that little girl is all grown up with a daughter of her own. My envelopes are long gone and I don't have that many sheets left, but Miss C. dragged me out of an old box and loves me just the way I am.
Today, we wrote this letter to her godmother. Who knows if she'll put it in the mail. It doesn't matter. She gave it her best and I'm proud of the girl she's growing up to be.
It's been three long years since I first arrived in this house. Three years since they took me out of the box and set me aside. Three long years of sitting. Waiting.
I could have been useful, you know. I was designed to be a helper at the bassinet. You know, one of those cool gadgets that plays soothing sounds for the baby and lights up at night to guide sleep-deprived parents as they made their way to the rocker.
Instead, I've been sitting around collecting dust. They didn't even put batteries in me. I never had a chance to show them what I could do.
Things are different now. Miss C. spotted me earlier this week and is giving me a shot at doing something big. Something important.
I've got a whole new identity. I'm a baby monitor for Miss C.'s stuffed animals. How cool is that?
I was the only toy that could make Miss C. happy when she was a baby and now I go everywhere with Master W. We hang out in his bouncy seat. We go for rides in the stroller. I even get to ride with him in the car.
I've got crinkly hooves, soft fur and a squeaker in my tummy. What more could a baby want?
This is my kind of weather. It's rainy, windy and just chilly enough to want to bundle up in a warm sweater – the perfect time to enjoy a nice, hot cup of tea.
Summertime is right around the corner, which means soon I'll be long forgotten. Miss C. will spend her time whipping up chilly pretend treats like smoothies or milk shakes while I sit on the shelf with the rest of the tea cups.
Right now, though, I'm enjoying my time. Every last sip.