Well, there IS a puppet in this house that has significant meaning but more to my daughter than myself....
My first attempt at puppet building was with felt and polyfill, which I made decent money with by selling them to friends, churches, and local craft shows. See my avatar, thats one of the first few I made. Anyway, my daughter always played with them and it didn't really concern me much because the materials were cheap, and it was stuffed with filling.... kind of like a doll.
But then I started doing research on foam based puppets, spent a fortune on god knows how many patterns that I wasn't satisfied with. I was frustrated at the quality and the amount of money I was spending to get something that was so-so (to me). It took years to develop a method that I was happy with and there are still things about my current method and look that I think need improvement.
But anyway, as unhappy about them as I was, the foam based characters were selling for over twice as much as the original stuffed ones I made. It's weird, I guess the puppets had more value to me because people were willing to pay more for them. This is what started to get me nervous about allowing my daughter to play with them, and I started to restrict her involvment in the building process as well as her interactive play with them.
Often, I would catch her in my room sneaking a peak, picking up a new one I was working on, or playing "puppet show" with them. One day, after telling her several times to please leave them alone, I had caught her in there again. Well, I was stressed and I really let into her about not touching them and she just started to cry and went to her room. I felt so bad about how I reacted, even though she hadn't listened.
I always kept the very first foam based puppet I ever made. It's this hiddious thing with hair falling out, felt "skin", fingernails barely hanging on by glue, and a hand made dress and wings that were fraying badly. It was her favorite puppet, I think because of the wings. =) And, it was the very puppet that she was playing with when I yelled at her that day. So, I gave it to her for Christmas that year and the minute she opened the box she started to cry, which had caught me off guard and I started crying too. *laughing*
Four years later and she still has it. It's so tattered and worn that she's afraid to play with it so she displays it on a top shelf in her room. She's very protective of it when other people pick it up for a closer look and hovers over them until it's put back.
Anyway, as you can see, I can get pretty long winded. Thats why I didn't want to get into story telling mode.
-Michele