Think your life is difficult? So does this teddy bear

So I just have to sit there and smile at everyone?
Well, that seemed pretty darn easy until they stuffed me in a large cardboard box with a hundred others. And I thought being a soft toy would be so much easier than any of the other plastic toys. Little did I know I would have to stay in a cramped position for an entire eternity which constantly bobbed up and down. I have claustrophobia and motion sickness people! As if they cared.

The moment the dumb humans tore off the cardboard box I bid farewell to all the bad days. But oh boy it seemed as if the manufacturers had more in store for me (pun intended), they took me to this extremely bright store forgetting the fact that I don't have an iris, not so good for my eyesight buddy. Anyway, I've always been confident since my manufacture but still, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COMPETE WITH ALL THESE BEARS WHO LOOK EXACTLY LIKE ME? Adding to the reduced self-esteem I'm also expected to sit on those uncomfortable racks and wait for my prince in shining armor to come and rescue me. Besides I'm a strong, independent stuffed animal who doesn't need anybody's help unless I'm stuffed by something else rather than plain white cotton. No offense, I'm all I am because of you (the cotton) after all. 

I always thought that the moment someone buys me, I'll be like a free bird, more like a free bear (nevermind the specifics), guess what? I was wrong. AGAIN. This little version of a human out of the blue just pulls me out of my shelf, with absolutely no sense of courtesy and squeals with such a high-pitched voice that I almost can't feel my ears. Almost? No that's an understatement. Adding on, this demonic, vile creature still has the audacity to tug at my arms and completely mess up my style. The only benefit I have is that this incarnation-of-the-devil has a nice room, spacious and well-ventilated, which is, of course, is overshadowed by the fact that I have to watch the kid sleep, that too with a mile-wide smile, I feel like such a pedophile. Maybe, maybe if I just put my weight forward and let gravity help me, I would only see the floor instead.

Being swirled in the air is one of the worst ways one could ever possibly wake up, and you know what's even more unfortunate? When your arm gets stuck on one of the weird looking things and is torn. Despite all this misery, I wasn't despondent. I was definitely feeling sad, not for myself but for the bawling little girl who screamed whilst holding my broken arm so carefully that it was as if her life depended on it, (maybe it did). That was the first time ever I didn't find her voice annoying, instead, it made me happy. I never knew that someone could ever care about me like the tiny lady did. From that day onwards, even though my arm looked hideous (black thread on baby blue fur? could you be any more obvious?) I reveled in every moment that I got to spend with her. What merry-go-rounds I used to find once obnoxious, now I too get excited.

Once you change the way you look things at, you will enjoy every bit of it.

And as Monica Geller once said, "Welcome to the real world! It sucks. You're gonna love it."