Were you denied the privilege of knowing my eight-year-old self?
If so, then I am sorry. But I am also delighted to share this little gem with you as evidence of what you missed.
While at my parents' house over the holidays, I was dismayed to find a very important piece of my history shoved away in the back of my brother's closet.
Meet Precious:
Precious was a handy little friend because his (her?) clothes fastened with Velcro, making a handy little hiding spot.
The first of these secret documents was merely a testament to my undying love for Precious. The validity of this document may have come into question under the circumstances which led to a 7-year confinement in my brother's closet.
The second document was of a more legal nature, reproduced below:
To the person who finds this.
My ballet diary is locked. The key is hidden in one of my glass figurines. It's in the one that swims.
You just inherited Precious, the doll this was hidden in and my ballet diary. Do not let anyone else see my diary.
[reverse side]
You may also have the glass figurine you find the key in but you may only claim this stuff after my death.
[signed] Full Name [printed] Full Name
Clearly, I figured that if someone was distraught enough after my death to disrobe Precious in a desperate search for relics by which they could remember me, then they deserved to read about whether I loved or detested my brother on any particular day.
Sadly, my budding legal mind failed to date it. Sorry to disappoint you hopeful seekers, but Precious and company will probably end up in the attic of one of my descendants, unappreciated and undiscovered.
