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Christmas Through the Eyes of a Beanie Baby
by
Beth Adair
"Hoppity, Hoppity, we need more Hoppity." Jackie Elf yelled to the Beanie Baby makers in department three.
Hattie Elf said with a sneer, "We already have twelve thousand Hoppities, why do you need more?"
Jackie Elf tightened her lips and replied with bitterness, "I am only saying what Boss told me. Kids must like Hoppity, whatever the reason just do it!"
I cringed at all the anger that was penetrated into this place. This time of year was always the worst. Elves are stressed, toys are abused, and even the Big Guy is cranky. There is no doubt about it, I hate Christmas!
Well maybe you are wondering who I am. My name is Tank; I am an armadillo Beanie Baby. You know what Beanie Babies are right? Those popular, collectible dolls that are filled with PVC pellets. Every child asks for one for Christmas it seems, so the Beanie Baby department is always quite busy this time of year. That Hoppity must really be something; personally, I have never met him. The elves keep him on a special shelf with only the rest of his clones. Elves say we might "damage" Hoppities if we are squeezed in with them.
No one seems to care for Tank. I have been sitting here for three years, anticipating the day when Katie Elf will pick me up and stuff me in that enchanted bag. I mean, I admit, gray, ribbed boxy little things might not be attractive, but I am still created by Ty. I am still worth something, did you know my current price is $25? I mean, hello, I have feelings too. I know most toys think that being a Beanie Baby would be grand, but I am just a neglected beanbag.
None of the collectors want me in their collections, they think I am ugly. So, here I sit, with my 75 brothers and 55 sisters, just waiting for a child to ask for a Tank Beanie for Christmas. Gosh, I have a lot of good qualities, I am a good listener, I am loving, caring and I don't wet the bed. I have been scheming for months for a way to get in to that sack. So, here is my plan. I will find a way to get on to the shelf with the Hoppities. That way, when they pile the beloved bunnies into the sack, I will be poured in with them. So, that night I went to bed with visions of Christmas trees and wrapping paper in my head.
The next morning when I woke up, all the other beanies were asleep. I quietly crept over to the "popular" shelf. I nudged myself between two pink, fluffy bunnies. Although I felt extremely self-conscious about my body compared to these masterpieces, I focused my mind on the joy I was about to encounter.
Soon, the workshop began to buzz busily. Elves were extremely upset, as it was the day before Christmas Eve. Hoppities were being quickly stuffed into bags, soon, I felt myself and the others around being lifted up and dropped in the sack. As this happened, I let out a cry of joy. Unfortunately, Annie Elf heard this cry and looked into the sack and saw me. She frowned and pulled me out.
"Hey, you do not belong in here. You are not popular, you little nerd!" Annie Elf put me back on the shelf next to my brothers and sisters. Of course after this, the other armadillos thought I had betrayed them, so they have refused to talk to me since.
I now sit on my shelf, hated by the other armadillos and looked down upon by the bunnies. I guess I will always be sitting here, unless, some wonderful child asks Santa for a lovely armadillo Beanie Baby for Christmas.
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