I think I've moved at least thirty times in my life. The last time I counted it was 23 times, but that was more than eight moves ago. The first half of my relocating adult life I wouldn't let anything go and kept all memorabilia, most of which never left their original packed boxes. I hauled the boxes from state to state, town to town, house to house, and stowed them in the garage or basement until the next move. But the second half of my adult life I began to let go. Each move I whittled down the number of boxes until now all I'm taking in the way of keepsakes this time are a few things that belonged to my grandfather, and my mother's pink depression glass (which I'd show you if it wasn't packed away in the storage unit where I put it the last time I moved). I'm holding onto this kewpie doll, too. I'm keeping her (or is it him?) because #1 - he/she is vintage and in excellent condition, #2 -- it's the last thing I have from my childhood (a gift from a beloved aunt), and #3 -- I've finally matured to the point where this silly doll no longer gives me the heebee jeebees. Honestly. There's just something kind of creepy about this winking kewpie in his/her birthday suit. But maybe it's just me that thinks so. Anyway, it's finally time to grow up and stop turning this kewpie upside down, with its face away from me, before I turn out the light next to my bed. Yes, I really did that as a kid. But then I also was convinced that the lilac bush outside my bedroom window morphed into a monster at night and the only way to stop it from eating me was to hunker down under the covers and pray it didn't know I was there.
I've always had a vivid imagination. Just ask the kewpie.
What kind of things scared you when you were a kid?
Learn more about Kewpie dolls at this History Channel page: http://www.thehistorychannelclub.com/articles/articletype/articleview/articleid/1472/the-kewpie-doll
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