I am a sentimental person by nature. I save shit the way I save food. The only difference is I actually throw the food away once it begins its transformation into a green fur bag. I have the first item of clothing DH ever bought me from 1986. The clogs I bought with my babysitting money when I was 14. The tag from a pair of Jordache jeans that were a gift from an ex-boyfriend. If someone so much as touches the stuff from my memory box, they lose a hand.
Out of all that crap, there were only two items that I intended to keep for my future child to actually use, not just look at. One was my Baby Brother Tender Love doll equipped with a little plastic penis that peed water. His name was Toby. The other was the Christening gown I wore as a baby.
I grew up with 2 younger brothers. They were your typical matchbox playing, army-men loving, blow ’em up kind of boys. One day they took it upon themselves to take a hacksaw to poor Toby. Yes, it’s true. I can see the vision in my mind still. I’m not sure if I actually caught them in the act or if I found Toby laying naked on the floor of the garage in pieces. Either way, it was very disturbing. As for my Christening gown? It was used as a grease rag on the same garage floor. I guess they never heard of a towel.
As for my memory box…all I can say is the kid is one lucky sucker to be an only child. She won’t have to fight with anyone over my Sweet 16 corsage or Leif Garrett poster. She’s never actually said so, but I know she can’t wait to get her hands on my senior prom dress, complete with hoop skirt and elbow length satin gloves. Just in case sweetie, it’s hanging in the foyer closet along with my champagne stained wedding dress. You’re welcome.