My son recently changed his favorite toy and I felt rather bad for his previously-beloved bunny. So I wrote a letter to her.
Dear Snowball,
I swear I didn’t know this would happen. When I said we’d bring the kids to Build A Bear for the first day of school, I thought it would be a cute activity. I didn’t know that the new guy – and I’m so sorry for this – would replace you.
You’ve been my older son’s favorite for so long. Longer than any of the other animals, in fact. At first, you were the stand-in for his beloved imaginary friend, who was also a bunny. While he loved Bear and Woof Woof and Taco, he loved you more. You were the first animal he gave a personality to, told stories about, and even created a whole imaginative world for! His bed became Bunnyland, with houses and stores and even a roller-coaster.
Honestly, you becoming the favorite was a total surprise to us. One day, you were just that white bunny Grandma gave him one Easter. Seemingly the next, you were The Favorite. And so you hopped into our lives.
But now, it seems like you’ve been demoted. Woofie is now the king, with his dog bed and kindergarten cachet. He’s the one my son brought to school for stuffed animal day. Woofie’s the one my son frets about if he’s not in his bed at bedtime. Compared to his soft, fluffy coat, your not-so-white fur is looking the worse for wear. I’ve even seen my younger son walking around with you without my older son complaining. At least you still have the more creative name.
But what are we to do? I can’t make him love you more. I can’t guarantee you’ll ever be the favorite again. While I still have a few of my stuffed animals as an adult, I don’t have the relationship with them that I did as a child.
The only thing I can guarantee is the one thing I hold close as his mom – that he loves me. And he loved you too.
Because you and me and all of us are in this together. One day I’ll experience this too. One day, he’ll love someone else more than he’ll love me. And I’ll have to let go, just as he’s let you go.
We can’t stop him from growing up. The only thing we can do is love who he becomes.
You’ve done such a good job. Truly — you were there for the quiet moments, the big adventures, the bedtime routines, and the wild stories of Bunnyland. You weren’t just a toy — you were a friend, a hero, a part of the family. That kind of love doesn’t just disappear.
I know it must sting a little, watching Woofie become the new favorite. But don’t forget what you were: the first to be loved, the first to be imagined into something more. Your not-so-white fur and softened ears are signs of years well spent.
You’ll always hold a special place — in that little world your boy built, and in the memories you helped shape.
And if you ever need a soft place to land, or maybe meet some other plushies who’ve walked the same path, there’s a lovely spot at tixymix.com. It’s filled with cozy, well-designed soft toys — kindred spirits who know what it means to be loved well.
Rest easy, Snowball. You did beautifully.
With love,
A fellow plushie fan