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Book that my parents used to read to me before bedtime when I was a little kid. I should also have a copy of the Hobbit around here somewhere. Although I think one of my sisters is looking after a few of my old childhood things that weren’t destroyed or lost over the years.
Fox and the Hound!!! Lovely film, devastating ending
Haven’t actually watched it since my childhood (something that I think I’m going to change now) but yeah, between this and stuff like Watership Down and Never Ending Story, it definitely seems like the entertainment industry was trying to traumatize an entire generation for life lol.
Neverending Story was one of my favourites! I watched it on telly a few years ago and they cut out a lot of THAT bit with Artax. Clearly because it’s just that traumatic
Haha that’s actually a shame that they’re editing it though. We had it on VHS and watched it until the tape was practically worn out.
Me too!
I’ve still got a couple of my cuddly toys. Bloody love them, they’re now vacuum packed
A small stone encrusted bronze box, in which I keep vaguely mystical objects in arrangements I do not fully understand. The selection of these objects has always held a remote fascination to me, and in three decades of doing so I have never revealed this secret to any soul.
I’m genuinely honoured you’ve shared this with us. I really like that you’ve had that throughout your whole life, it’s very meaningful
Nobody’s ever asked.
My cuddle bear. I gave it a hand wash recently
I still have the mouse I bought with my first PC in 2003. Not only do I have it … I still use it. It just keeps working.
They don’t make em like that anymore
I have my gameboy color I got when I was maybe 6 or 7.
Plenty of Lego, even some from my parents’ childhood.
Shit, a lot. We’ve got a big attic, and there’s always been kids that visit, so throwing things away never seemed to be worth doing.
I think the most important ones are the ones not in the attic though.
My wind up Winnie the Pooh that plays the theme song, my Mattel Godzilla with the fire tongue, and spring loaded hand that shoots out; my Spider-Man doll (stuffed, with Velcro hands that used to have a cable that could be hooked to things and he’d slide down), and the pillow my grandmother made for me.
All of them were significant as a kid. And they’ve all been a comfort to me in one way or another over the years.
I still have two slide rules from my youth.
They were anachronisms even then, but I thought it was funny watching my fellow classmates’ and teachers’ faces as I solved my math problems with these aluminum things stained a bright yellow.
