Don’t we all have a Toy Story to share? | Opinion

**Emma Joyce** _and her toys live in Gorham._ Woody and Buzz are back. To prepare for the return of the endearing heroes and their trusty sidekicks (Mr. Potato Head et al.), my husband and I have been rewatching the first four “Toy Story” movies. It’s stirred up a lot of feelings. Like Andy and Bonnie, I’m fortunate that my childhood was filled with lots of well-loved toys. I would line the side of my bunk bed with stuffed animals, dolls and Beanie Babies, meticulously placing each one in a specific order based on preference. Mr. Sealy, of course, got the best position — on top of my pillow. Mr. Sealy was a birthday gift from my parents, purchased from Mardens, back when Mardens looked like a castle. When I first got him, he was a bright white, fluffy plush toy with a fuzzy brown nose and black whiskers. The softest of soft. Mr. Sealy is, as you may have guessed, a seal (shoutout to my cousin Anna, who named him). But he is no ordinary seal. Mr. Sealy is my ride or die. We’ve been through it all together. He is a rather large stuffed animal so when I took him to sleepovers I couldn’t just pack him in my backpack like most other kids would do with their stuffies. Mr. Sealy was carried in my arms. There are some toys that are effortlessly cool. That’s Mr. Sealy. He can make an entrance. Advertisement The fuzz on his nose has rubbed off and his body is no longer bright white, but rather that grayish color that befalls all once-white stuffed animals who find themselves in the arms of adoring children. Over the years I have let some toys go — they’ve been gifted, sold at yard sales and donated to thrift stores. But the core group remains. In addition to Mr. Sealy is WNBA Barbie, whose right arm was designed to shoot a small basketball that can be secured to her hand by a magnet. My dream was to play in the WNBA. As one of the shortest kids in my grade, I was laughed at and teased for such a big dream. That’s why it gives me great comfort that WNBA Barbie now sits on a windowsill in my office next to a bobblehead of Mackenzie Holmes — a fellow Gorham alum who plays in the WNBA and whose mom coached me in AAU. I changed course from my hoop dreams but another kid from my town made it happen. Some of my childhood toy requests were a bit on the unusual side. Take, for example, Big Frank. He’s a plastic Frankenstein whose head opens up, which stores tools that can be used to work on his chest, which also opens up. I can take out his heart and wind gears to heal his bones. Once upon a time, when his batteries worked, his eyes lit up red and he said short phrases like, “Fix me” and “I’m alive!” Hernando, the adventure pig, came into my life later on — in my 20s. He’s taken road trips with me down south and out west. I have pictures of him eating Krispy Kreme doughnuts, hiking at national parks and even meeting some curious LDS missionaries at Temple Square. There are a lot of aspects to being an adult that are no fun. We have to pay taxes and overcome illnesses. Many of us have to work. But all of us can choose to play. That’s why I will be seeing “Toy Story 5” at the movie theater. And this July I’ll be dressing up as a woodland elf for the Maine Renaissance Faire in Acton. I’ll ride on the carousel and log flume when I visit Story Land in New Hampshire with my nephews. I’ll continue ordering sweets with sprinkles and dancing under rainbows and picking up pennies for good luck. Mr. Sealy wouldn’t want it any other way. Copy the Story Link Tagged: [columns](https://www.pressherald.com/tag/columns/)