I often talk about my childhood, which usually involves my older brother, Mike. He was the sibling closest to my age, so we spent a good deal of time playing together. Each play session almost always ended in a huge fight. I've posted about the joy he found in tormenting me, but I don't want to misrepresent him. He has been known to do some very loving things, too. When I turned 7, my sister got me a stuffed monkey for my Birthday. This is Joe. He has seen me through every illness, every joy, and daily playing. He had a personality, relationships with my other stuffies, and he understood me better than anyone.

One night, after having slept over at my friend's house the night before, I discovered that Joe was missing from my over night bag. After practically turning the bag inside out, I had to accept the fact that I had left him behind and would have to sleep without him. This would be a first in a long time. Joe was always tucked in under my arm. Well I cried and cried, knowing my best friend was at least a mile and a half away. There was no way I would sleep a wink!

As I lay in my bed, my mom talking to me and soothing my broken heart, my brother appeared in the doorway with Joe in his hand. He had hopped on his bike and rode all the way to my friends house to collect my most prized possession. He was my hero that night, and as I lay my tear stained cheek on my pillow that night, all was right in the world because of my big brother.

This picture was taken after I gave Joe new fir, and new eyes. Before I did this, he was grey and bald, and his eyes were torn and falling off. If I had a scanner I would include pics of before, during, and after the transformation. My family was amazed at the restoration. Today he sits on my headboard, but I will confide in you that every now and again, when I've had a really bad day, I tuck him under my arm and hug him tight when I go to sleep. He still holds a special place in my heart (My brother's not too shabby either!)