My Sylvanian Love

I loved Sylvanians growing up.  Owing to no internet, they were harder to find then than they are now.  One Christmas, I remember, all I wanted was Sylvanian badgers.  My friend had them; I didn't.  How I longed for hers.  My dad had a business trip right before Christmas.  He must've searched the entire greater Munich area for badgers.  Toy shop after toy shop came up empty; finally, walking back to his hotel in the snow, he saw them: a family of badgers, smiling out a shop window.  Unfortunately, that shop was in the process of closing.  As the grate came down, my dad charged the door, banging furiously and demanding to be let in.  The shop owner threatened to call the police; my dad--a German, himself, and thus blessed with fortitude of purpose--explained that if he didn't come home with badgers, he couldn't come home at all.

The kind shop owner relented, and sold my dad the badgers.  And I still have them.  And I still love Sylvanians.

Apparently, I'm not the only one: this highly gifted person makes absolutely adorable outfits for hers.