Today is the day that this stupid piece of crap chair that I have hated since my MIL sent it to my son when he was two years old goes into the trash.
Good riddance you disgusting, noisy, terrifying, filthy, vaguely threatening toy. I hate your gobble mouth, your fur is gross, your back offers no resistance, your foam is collapsing, your arms flop to the sides, you smell like every lost sippy cup in the world. I despise your overtly commercial character and inducement to consumption. Your nose is weird and your eyes are on the wrong side of the Vicky Mendoza Diagonal. I have tried to throw you away a dozen times, and yet you return to their rooms as if you walked there yourself, which you didn't, because if you had legs I'm pretty sure I'd wake up to see you standing next to my pillow in the morning with that imbecilic grin on your "face" and a knife in your fold. I hope you burn in a landfill with no Woody on the horizon.
Enjoy your new life in Hell.