Leave it to Pixar to make me think about my childhood toys.
I’m not just talking about Toy Story 3 — even though the film touched on just about every thought and feeling I have about growing up and how I never want to grow up, and it turned me into a teary mess by the end.
I had the pleasure of attending a master class this past weekend taught by Pixar animator Andrew Gordon and story artist Matthew Luhn. And somehow, Matt managed to single me out from the dozens of students, asking me to come to the front of the class with two others to talk about our favourite childhood toy.
I had a few preferred playthings, so to pick one on the spot was difficult. Or so I thought. Then the smiling face of an old plushy, Taffy Tiger, swam to mind…and I couldn’t think of anything else but Taffy.
Matt had described earlier that one simple thought will trigger others and sure enough, that’s exactly what happened next: a rush of wonderful, happy memories flooded my mind and I found myself telling a room of strangers about one of my most cherished stuffed animals.
Matt asked where he was now and without missing a beat, I knew. I was still thinking about Taffy when I was finally permitted to escape back to my seat so I decided then and there to go on a mission. With photos, no less.
Inspired by the class — and also to celebrate Father’s Day — I visited my parents in the ‘burbs the next day. I rarely visit my parents, as they usually make the trek downtown, but it’s an even rarer occasion when I’m combing through their crawlspace.
Basements are scary when you’re a kid, but my brother and I were especially terrified of the dimly lit crawlspace that ran under the kitchen and living room.
My dad had built a small wooden stool on wheels (above pic, bottom centre) to ease navigation through the crawlspace. Andrew and I never needed it when we were kids, but of course we were also a fraction of our present-day height.
Past the stacked worn cardboard boxes, a small pile of unused serving platters and an unopened four-pack of Christmas-themed coasters, I found what I was looking for.
Before you ask, yes, that’s Michelangelo. He belongs to my brother and is missing an eye which popped off during a particularly rough playtime session. He kept it in an empty film container for years, labeled “Mikey’s eye.”
But I was much more interested in the plushy right above Mikey. I reached for clear plastic bag, unzipped it and there was Taffy, staring up at me with that lovable, ear-to-ear grin.
I don’t even remember how old we were when we got him, but I have to admit: he’s looking pretty good for his age.
I still think he’s pretty cute and it’s safe to say that my current love of cuddly plushies is because of him.
But Taffy isn’t solely mine — Andrew and I had joint ownership, and he was far from our first stuffed animal. Candy Lion was one of our older plushies and he also bore an ear-to-ear grin. We had him for years and one day, we were at the toy store when we discovered what surely must have been the tiger version of Candy Lion in a bin filled with stuffed animals.
He had a tag with the name Taffy Tiger and we giggled at the similarity in their sweet monikers and coincidentally large smile. He was also the only Taffy Tiger in the bin.
We scooped him up to show our mom, excitedly claiming that we’d found Candy Lion’s brother. I have a very clear memory of her taking one look at Taffy, a small smile spreading across her face, and emitted a low chuckle.
Taffy came home with us that night. And he’s been home ever since.
I held Taffy in my arms and lost myself in a few childhood memories. My brother and I had some pretty strong imaginations, so much so that we often wrote down our very own toy stories in which the characters were our stuffed animals.
I snapped back to reality when my mom’s voice broke the silence from the next floor, calling us to get ready to visit my grandpa at the cemetery.
Stroking Taffy’s faded fur, I gave him a small kiss on his nose and snapped one last picture before putting him away.
I almost took him with me. Then I decided that, like Woody in Toy Story, Taffy would always be there for me, no matter what, no matter how old I am.
My smile isn’t as big as Taffy’s. But I’d like to think it comes pretty close.
