Geek Dad Report – Passing down Mr. Sheriff
If there is one thing (other than my NES) that I’ve always taken with me during my life journey, it has been Mr. Sheriff. My Uncle Jerry had a wife (I can’t remember which number) that was apparently ‘quirky’ as my mom once described the woman who created my much treasured item. I nearly lost him at one point, my little brother had nearly torn off his head , I cried my little eyes out and my mom took him from me. The next day, he was sitting on my bed good as new, and with a whole bunch of sewing in the reattached neck, it’s the kind of thing Moms are best known for. I don’t remember how he lost an eye, and why I never bothered to re attach it, maybe I liked the idea of a one eyed sheriff. That’s probably why.
Like I said, I’ve had him since I was in a crib, slept with him when I was little, and took a long hard thought about taking him to college with me. Which I did, he sat on my shelves nicely for 4 years. Always keeping an eye on me, thank god he couldn’t talk, because he’d have horrible stories to tell about me.
It was a couple of weeks ago that my wife and I were taking boxes out of the basement to just get stuff cleaned up or thrown away or restored in a bin. In a box of random things, I found my good ‘ol Mr. Sheriff, dusty, but still in excellent condition. So, I dusted him off, and put him down on a box.
Then, something happened that I’ll never forget.
I heard a scream.
My Daughters scream.
A scream of sheer and utter delight.
Next thing I know I shot a glance at her to see what was wrong, but all she was doing was screaming with her mouth wide open in a huge weird screaming smile and then she just kept saying “Beah, Beah!” Grabbing Mr Sheriffs arm, he pulled him tight and give him a big kiss, really emphasizing her “MUAH” as she did so. Giving Mr Sheriff a loving embrace he probably hasn’t felt in well over 20 years. Maybe that Toy Story series of movies my son always watches rubbed off on me. But I was just happy to see the guy so loved.
Now, he’s become a fixture in my daughters play area, getting lots of hugs and kisses from her. Hopefully he doesn’t lose another eye, and if the stitches in his neck tears, I’ll have to learn to sew. My only hope is that she takes as good care of him as I did, because someday. I want to hear that same scream from one of my grandchildren.