A candid letter to my favorite infant development tool, Target

To my dearest bouncy chair toy, best friend and favorite Whoozit, Target

You probably already know how I feel about you but I'm not all that comfortable leaving things unsaid. I love you. I do. We met by accident, I think Mom and Dad said something about you coming in the mail with a free formula sample. I'm not really sure what formula is or even what free or sample means but I know that I couldn't live without you. Every time I look for you there you are, right by my side, never very far away. You've had my back for, what, two full weeks now? I can't tell you just how much that time means to me.

When I'm upset, you're there for me. When I'm lonely, there you are. When I need to talk, you listen. You don't contribute much but then I probably wouldn't understand you even if you did. My vocabulary is pretty limited... I don't even know what vocabulary means. With you I never have to worry about it. You mostly just hang there from my bouncy chair and to be perfectly honest, thats all I ever wanted from you. I don't want to prop our relationship up with false impressions and erroneous ideas of give and take. I want to give and you're kind enough to take. I talk, you listen. I throw up all over you and you just hang in there, complaint-free. You're my best friend.

To be perfectly honest, I don't really have any other friends. Sure I was pretty tight with that bear that makes all those weird womb sounds but it's over now. He means nothing to me. I know I've been spending a little time with the Samsquench but no one means as much to me as you do...Mom and Dad excluded, of course. You're everything to me, everything that doesn't leak milk at least.

I hope nothing ever changes between us, never. I hope that you're always there with me...on my first date, at my prom, at my graduation, when I go away to college, when I flunk out of college and discover that work sucks and so I head back to school with renewed vigor and focus...I hope that you're there when I get engaged and on my wedding day. Target, I hope we're never apart.

I know that you're just made of fabric and squeaky stuff, of rattling things and ribbon...I know that you were never invited or even purchased but crashed "the Zoey party" anyway. I know that you hate it when I refer to the last 6 weeks as "the Zoey party," and I'm sorry. I'm not going to stop saying it but I'm sorry. I know that there's nothing particularly valuable about you whatsoever but I love you anyway. I hope you can find it in your squeaky heart to love me back. I promise to never forsake you for another free squeaky toy with a black and white target type thing stitched on it's back. I hope that's enough to let you know how much I love you. If it isn't...well, whatever...I'm 7 weeks old. There's plenty of free squeaky toy type friends out there and I'll get on with my life. I don't want to but I would.

You don't need to write me back. I understand that you have absolutely no muscle mass in your arms and that your hands are stuffed hearts, so I get it if you have absolutely no manual dexterity. I just wanted to let you know how I feel about you and get something more than just spit up off of my chest. No matter what happens in the next developmental stage of my infancy it's important that you know that this time together meant something, that it was valuable to me. I couldn't sleep at night if I didn't say it...well, yeah, I probably could, but you know what I mean.

Much love and occasional confusion...

Zoey Sakura DeWagner