I’m making a wild guess saying this is from Easter ‘92. But it may just be earlier. All I remember is I got this big, huge, giant bunny from my Godfather, and I loved this thing.
I swear to God, the only thing anyone ever needed to get me to make me happy was a stuffed animal. I was obsessed with any kind (the bigger, the better…but they were all loved the same). At one point my collection was well over 200. My mom made me start bagging them and putting them away in the attic (I cried at this because I thought they would suffocate). But it was my mom’s own fault, she was so good at the 25-cent Claw machine.
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