My darling wife is fairly horrified that the two stuffed animals I had as a child were a cotton Frankenstein doll (purchased for me, if I recall correctly, after my nefarious older brother plowed into me on the bumper cars at Six Flags Over Georgia, knocking out a tooth); and a denim-shelled fuzzy lime-colored Tommy the Turtle. Not the two cuddliest toys for a 5-year old, I suppose, but it could have been worse; I'm pretty sure I remember Roy lugging around and sleeping with his shirtless Stretch Armstrong well into his teenage years. And I don't even want to know what went on with that afroed and bespectacled Lester ventriliquist's dummy.
Anyhoo, turtles are cool.
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