By Ailene Sankur
Just in time for Easter…
I used to hate Pooh, Tigger, Roo, Eeyore and the rest of the Hundred Acre wood crew. Well, I don’t necessarily hate those characters. It’s more like those bumper stickers that say, “God, Save Me From Your Followers.” I hate the people who love Pooh: basically, people with severe arrested development issues, the kind of people who also like stuff from Disney. Not ironically. (My ex-boyfriend loves Tigger stuff — keychain, a full PJ set — and those things just reminded me of the indulgent females in his life who gave him the Tigger shit and who tended to encourage his Tigger-like behavior, i.e. Teenage guy hyperactive irresponsibility. I also had a high school friend who loved Eeyore, talking in baby voices, and sleeping with your boyfriend. Neither did much to change my original perspective on Pooh-lovers.)
So I didn’t have much room in my life for cartoon animals of the Pooh variety until a precocious eight-year-old (something else I normally hate…I’m growing soft in my advanced age) introduced me to the Peek-a-Pooh, a rubber keychain-like toy in which a hard plastic Pooh hides within various rubber costumes.
Under Da Sea: Peek-a-Pooh Aquatic Collection