1 post tagged “cecil the talking sea serpent”
As I lay in bed this morning, I looked around my bedroom and thought of the stuff I had to do today. I was not working today, due to amazingly being caught up at work. I work per diem, so I can not work if I'm caught up, I just don't get paid. Marc was painting the bedroom today and being I was home I was going to get to help moving stuff. Yay. My eyes fell upon a companion I've had most of my life...Cecil the talking sea serpent. I got him when I was about three and we've been together ever since. He didn't go away to college with me, but rather did what most family pets do, waited at home with mom and dad for vacations.
As you can see, he has a string to pull so he talks, however the only thing he has said for a long time is a hissing fuzzy sound and "I'm coming Beanie". Beanie was his companion on the Beanie and Cecil show, a favorite cartoon. I thought, I can do this, I'm ready.
Me- "I'm going to throw out Cecil today, it's time."
Marc- "Good put him in the trash."
Me- "Well I want to take some pictures, I can't just let him go. I've had him since I'm three."
Marc- "Fine, take some pictures and get rid of him."
Me- "Okay."
Now I'm cleaning up some more and taking pictures off the wall. Marc comes in.
Marc- "Is he gone?"
Me- "No, he's in the living room, I want to take some pictures."
Marc- "Okay."
Now I'm in the living room looking at Cecil. He's filthy beyond belief and I am allergic to dust. It's time.
I think about the beautiful blue stuffed poodle I had, with the shiny diamond eyes that my cousin Ellen gave to me. One of the eyes got dull, but I still loved her. Ellen won her at a carnival. Ellen was probably about 16, so I was six. Then, if my memory serves me correctly, something got on her and she had to be washed and mom put her in the washing machine. This was before polyester and acrylic was the norm. Those items were just being developed and not in every one's home yet. The poodle didn't make it.
Cecil is falling apart. His felt trimming is almost gone. I have to wash my hands everytime I touch him.
He's curved like that so you can wear him on the shoulders. I did that a lot as a kid. I feel ready, but what if I'm wrong. What if it isn't time? Marc walks in the living room. "Just put him in the attic", he says.
I don't know what to do.