My Cuddly Friend

My cuddly friend is magically significant.
A gift from my grandfather.

As I stroke him gently across the bristled, uneven mane I can feel every individual hair, tall ,short, prickly, soft. That’s the haircut he wanted.

As I put my ear against him I can hear beads shaking and trembling inside him and a little heart beat as I check him with my handy stethoscope.

As I look into his little plastic eyes I can see a strong urge for a good mark on the test. The teacher passes the test over to him “YAY” he screams as he jumps up and down in his seat. “Shh! No screaming in class.”

As I squeeze him hard I can smell a sweet sugar seance of a big Aussie Anzac biscuit that I offered him. 'Would you like a biscuit?” I said in my most poshest voice.

As I kiss him goodnight in my warm cosy bed I can taste a weird hospital flavour that fills the room and a little fist that is resting on my hand and me holding it tight with my tiny chubby fingers wrapping around it.

My imagination grows as I hold him close because I know you're magically significant MY CUDDLY FRIEND.