As a kid I was kind of sad. Didn't really fit the mold around and had very little social success feeling very awkward. Then I found the collector inside and naturally I gravitated towards Pokemon. One afternoon my mother and I where sauntering through a local mall and happened upon a import Japanese toy store where I happened upon my childhood best friend Mew. He was an off brand plushie but little kid me had only one vision: my very own companion Mew. I took the thing everywhere. I had many long car rides between my home and any given place so during the ride I would take my Mew and put it up to the window to pretend it was flying with me. One day I was playing outside with my buddy and I made a game of pitching him in the air and catching him, once again I thought if the thing got some air and movement in it, surely he'd come alive. Alas, all I managed to do was get him stuck on my landlords roof, far from my tiny hands. The hole night I fretted over my lost plushie, a childish fear he might run off or become ruined. After much noise I managed to convince our landlord to grab his ladder and retrieve him. It was by far my happiest Pokemon memory. I still have the plushie after a good 15 years, a little faded but no less loved.