Do you keep a journal – or wish you could get one started? Literary Mama wants to help. Several times a month, we'll post a writing prompt. Open a notebook and write for 10 minutes. Don’t worry about grammar or punctuation – just write.
When my son was born, the woman who was my next-door neighbor for most of the years of my childhood sewed him a snuggly. It is a square of ultra-soft fabric, purple on one side, white on the other, with a somewhat flattened dog’s head projecting from one corner. It has a cute little embroidered face, perky ears, and a seemingly all-knowing smile. By the time my son was 6 months old, Snuggly had claimed his place in the family—second only to me in comforting ability.
Like many a favored stuffed friend, Snuggly has gone more places and had more experiences than it would be possible to recount here. He provides love every night while my son falls asleep, he happily sits by and watches as games are played and books are read, and he is a good buddy to have around for all those scraped knees and bee stings. But now, eight years later, Snuggly is still on the list of “must-haves” during most of my son’s activities. We’ve been able to ban Snuggly from all outside-of-the-house activities, but inside, wherever I find my son, I find Snuggly.
His attachment to Snuggly raises questions for me and go back and forth between the two sides of the story. He is too old for a Snuggly. But it comforts him. But shouldn’t he have given it up by now? There’s no harm in clinging to a comfort object. It’s dirty all the time, no matter how often I wash it. It makes him happy.
In the end, I usually come to the thought that I have bigger things to worry about. If Snuggly’s magic powers of love and comfort can protect my boy from the grown-up world for a little while longer, that’s good enough for me.
In your journal today, write about a comfort object you had as a child, or one your child has. What do you think this object’s powers are? What does it do for the child? Is it a good thing? Why? Why not?
Do YOU have a writing prompt to share with Literary Mama readers? Send your 150- to 300-word narrative and associated writing prompt to lmblogcontact (at) literarymama (dot) com. We'd love to read your ideas!