Last November, my mom's friend (who was also the person who got my Japanese copy of Black for me) went to Japan again. This time, she brought back a couple of plushies-- a Snivy for me, and a Tepig for Jo. Don't get me wrong; I love my plush Snivy. I keep it in this little cat bed thing on my desk rather than on the foot of my bed with my other plush. I think it's pretty neat that it came all the way from Japan. I value it as a collectible-- unlike Jo, who thinks of her Tepig as a real person. She brings it everywhere with her, and as a result it has gained a number of stains. If she ever can't find it, she throws a fit until it's found. Then again, she's Jo. She throws a fit over anything the slightest bit wrong. If I touch her beloved "Piggy", she yells at me. If I throw it, (even if I'm throwing it at her to give it to her if she left it in my room or something) it ain't pretty. She always makes my mom kiss it goodnight, and she claims she can't sleep without it. And the list goes on...
As with any other security device she's ever owned, I'm really sick of hearing about "Piggy". It also kind of saddens me that her plush from another country is in the condition it's in...
When I was little, I never had a security device. Sure, sometimes I took toys with me places, but I never grew attached to a certain one, and I never developed that crazy bond children have with their security toys with any of them. I always realized they were just collectibles, and nothing more than that.



That poor, poor Tepig. It's a shame he doesn't get to live a life of luxury like I do. Staying on a desk for all eternity isn't as bad as it sounds when you're a collectible.