Last night I lay in bed snuggling with a hirsute companion in my arms. A soft smile on my lips, feeling comfort and repletion as his head nestled between my breasts. Completely at peace with myself and the world. I stretch like a cat, we silently alter our positions and get comfortable again … spooning, me behind with my arm encircling his body. My fingers explore the soft thick carpet of his chest hair. Entwining my fingers in it, luxuriating in the sensualness of how it feels on my fingertips, marvelling at how a simple thing as this can be the most beautiful thing in the world, at this moment in time. I slip into the realms of sleep and dreams knowing he will still be there when I wake up. And he was. Still clutched to my body when I awoke in the morning. And tonight, as I write this now, he is in bed waiting for me.
Last night I slept with one of Liam’s teddybears. It was amazingly comforting. Incredible that even a grown-up woman with a child of her own can still fall back on such childhood props and more incredibly, enjoy it. The last time I slept with a teddybear was in 2001 when I broke my back and was stuck in my sister’s place at Queensland. I nicked my nephew’s teddy. Hey … I was under the influence of mucho pain killers and valium and the teddy and my heatpack where my only companions while everyone was out of the house every day.
I say … everyone should ’embrace’ teddybears and incorporate them into their lives. They are warm, soft, always there whenever you want them, don’t complain if you neglect them for even years at a time, and you never have to feed them.