When I was young, bedtime was always my favourite part of the day. Wearing soft pajamas and with Tom, my stuffed monkey, in my arms, I felt no pressure at all.
I named Tom after my uncle when I compared Tom’s long arms and legs to his. One night I ran up to Uncle Tom at a family party and told him I had named my monkey after him. His eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, then a chuckle (咯咯笑) escaped his lips. I guessed he didn’t understand how important it was to me.
Even if Uncle Tom didn’t think my monkey was special, I certainly did. I dressed him in a white baby nightgown. My mother thought that Tom was the hest-dressed stuffed animal in the world. Yes, he was certainly a fashionable creature. The strong cologne (科隆香水) I used on him years ago made him still smell "pretty".
For a long time, Tom went everywhere with me. He was my best friend, and I told him everything. But when I turned twelve, I realized I was too old for stuffed animals. I thought people would think I was babyish, so I put him in the cupboard with the rest of my teddy bears and dolls. I begged him to understand why I was doing this, but at the same time I longed to talk to him again.
It took me several years to realize that it was OK to miss Tom. I know now that maturity (熟) doesn’t only mean growing up and taking on more responsibility. It also means holding on to your childhood and acting young sometimes.
The writer loved Monkey Tom deeply because ______.