Let me introduce you to Pinky.
Pinky is a rabbit. A very old rabbit. Mum would have to confirm this, but I suspect he's at least 30 years old. Pinky was my special toy when I was a little girl.
One of my most enduring memories is of my dad sticking Pinky down the front of his shirt, so his pink ears were poking over the top of his collar. 'Where's Pinky?' he'd ask. 'There he is!', I'd shout. 'Where?', he'd say, pretending to look every where except at the huge lump on his chest. 'There!', I'd shout, jumping madly, trying to reach my beloved bunny (but I was too small). This would happen fairly frequently and probably only stopped when I was tall enough to pull Pinky out.
I watched my dad play this same game last weekend with Miss Curly Mop and her (formerly) favourite toy, Ella the Elephant.
Now The Mop has a new favourite.
It's heart warming to see my youngest daughter so firmly attached to my old toy. It's also reassuring that I did not have to go out and buy something new, I spent nothing more than my childhood loving this rabbit, and now he has a new child to love him and chew on him.