I read The Littlest Angel Box early this morning. It's about the box of things that Helen sent ahead of her move so they'll be waiting for her when she gets there. Things too important and special to travel with furniture or clothing or common goods. The little mementos and important minutiae of life that you just can't lose. I read that and thought "Neat, I'll leave a comment with the stuff I'd put in that box". And I have been trying to "fill" my box all damned day but it's still almost entirely empty. And that really confuses me. I've got nothing so important to me that I would go to extra steps to guarantee its safety.

There is one exception, the sole item I've "got in my box" right now. That's Bruff. He's a bear. He's in his own box right now, safe and secure and ready to go anywhere at a moment's notice. He hasn't been out of his box in daylight since we had kids. He's way too cute and way too delicate to take any chance that they'll want to touch him.

I remember when I first got Bruff. I wasn't a stuffed animal sort of kid. I had a couple but never played with them (except when using them as targets). One Christmas I was about half way through the presents (we started with the little stuff and worked our way to the big presents) and I opened Bruff. He was a golden brown bear with a very handsome face, a green shirt and a nametag that said (you can guess this, can't you?) "Bruff". I was intrigued. Why would a bear be named Bruff? I didn't know any Bruffs. There weren't any Bruff Bears in any of the cartoons or shows or corporate tie-ins. Bears didn't have name tags. Did they?

Bruff did. He wasn't afraid to buck the system. He had a name and he wanted the world to know it. So what if bears didn't wear nametags? He didn't care. He was Bruff and he did what he wanted to. It was love at first sight (well, after I figured out that little bit I just explained).

Bruff has been though a lot. He lost an arm once. Surgeon Mom fixed that but the skin graft is very noticeable. He lost an eye once and Optrician Mom removed his other natural eye and gave him two brand new very cool button eyes (from the big can of Grandma's buttons). His fur is a bit less than spectacular. That's probably because he spent a lot of time wrestling and playing Karate Joe (that's what you play when you want to play Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles but all you've got is that foot tall GI Joe. And a bear named Bruff). He also caught a good bit of vomit and other nastiness over the years, seeing as he always insisted on staying with me when I was sick.

And his reward for those years of selfless companionship? What does he get now in exchange for the countless hours spent as my foil, boon companion, mascot and assistant? He gets stuck in a box.

That's not quite all he gets, though. He also gets the knowledge that no matter where I go or why I go there, that box will be coming with me.