The keep statistic seems likely. Sleeps with statistic seems unlikely. Selection bias looks to be at work in their respondents. My husband does have his childhood stuffed animal, but it sits on top of the couch. I didn’t have one to begin with, but I later decided to keep a stuffed animal as a teenager. As it turns out, when you like to sleep on your stomach and you’ve got boobs, it’s more comfortable to have one side propped up a bit, and a stuffed animal under the shoulder fits exactly right for the purpose. A pillow works alright too, but the stuffed animal isn’t as unwieldy or hot. Also makes sleeping on the side more comfortable as a not-too-warm arm prop for the side that’s up in the air.
As far as I know I didn’t have a favored childhood cuddly toy. At least not one that was favored over a long period of time.
I’ve still got Panda, who lives atop one of the bookcases these days. I’ve had her nearly 50 years, since I was a baby, so she’s not going anywhere. Sleeping alongside her would be hella weird though.
I’ve still got my old teddy bear with a wind-up music box inside. It plays a very imperfect rendition of “Brahms’ Lullabye” because some of the “harp” teeth have broken off. The gear is also missing its eyes, and its plastic snout is pushed in.
I don’t sleep with it. If I did, it would undoubtedly fall apart in no time. But I still have it, in a shoebox.
Ditto for my old plastic Mighty Mouse figure.
I’ve got lots of relics from my childhood, but I don’t use them as I once did.
If I’m in the 49%, can I still call myself an outlier?
I do still have my childhood teddy bear stuffed away in my closet. It is of sentimental value to me. But I haven’t touched it since my own kids were young, when I showed it to them. And I haven’t cuddled with it in the last 5 decades, that I can recall.
Still, it is precious to me.
I have several childhood toys, including my cuddly bedtime animal (a pound puppy, if you must know). They are of sentimental value to me and are displayed on a shelf.
A large part of the reason for that, though, is because I have very few relics from before Hurricane Andrew. It’s possible if not probable that those things would have gone into the trash sometime in my teenage years if not for that storm.
My transitional object was a soft baby blanket, and I “still have it” in the sense that it’s in my mom’s attic somewhere. But I haven’t slept with it since I was in my teens.
If you had to throw it into the Crack of Doom to save the civilized worlds from Sauron, could you do it?
How about from Trump?
I have a couple gift stuffed animals also. They are on a shelf in my living room, right next to the stuffed dog I slept with until I was 9 or 10. Don’t sleep with any of them though.
My hubby has his in a box in the basement, not in the bed.
My dad keeps his on a shelf in the extra bedroom.
Interesting. I definitely don’t harbor any sense of identity that is dependent on being manly (although I suppose I identified with adults rather than other children from a pretty young age)… I cant’ recall ever having had a plushy or stuffed animal or cuddle toy as a kid. I should ask my parents.
My brother has his in his house. I think in his bedroom but I’m not certain.
I have no clue if mine still exists (I didn’t actually use it as a child - my parents just thought I should have one). If it’s around, my brother has it, too.
So, 50/50 for us.
My mother still has mine, an awful lime green coloured Teddy Bear. Its in my parents storeroom and I have not seen it in years.
Do not sleep with it.
Purpie.
That’s the name of the 6-inch tall purple dog stuffed toy my father bought for me on the day of my birth over 40 years ago. Purpie is still with me, but not on my bed. He “sleeps” inside a tote bag located in my study which is next to JpnGal’s collection of Disney-related stuffed toys. 
I have mine in the house. I hadn’t slept with it since I was maybe 5, but after my son was born, my parents sent it. He didn’t get that interested in it, so now it’s on a shelf.
My favourite is now on a book-shelf, but I kept it on my bed for years. Partially I think as a FU to silly stereotypes, and also because of a hint of anthropomorphising, although this hasn’t prevented me from stuffing the handful of other cuddlies deep in a box in the shed.
My mother still has Bronto, the stuffed brontosaurus (he’s a stuffed animal so he doesn’t have a skull to misidentify), in storage at her place. She gave me back my other old stuffed animals but made it clear that she has no intention of returning Bronto. I don’t recall at what age Bronto went from constant companion to shelf clutter though I remember being five or younger and forgetting him at my grandmother’s house in the city. I cried and cried when I got home and realized that I wouldn’t have him for bed time and my mother finally made my dad take the 90-120 minute round trip to go get him.
My youngest son had Dino, a small blue dinosaur, who he carried everywhere for years until it was permanently dirty and its neck wrung floppy from serving as a constant handhold. Then, recently (he’s five), he just decided “nope” and wanted nothing to do with it. A little sad but that’s growing up for you and I assume that, like my mother, I’ll be the keeper of Dino and his memories. My son does still have his brown blanket with the pastel polka dots though that travels from room to room with him.
That’s a normal part of the process. Basically, the whole point of these things is that they’re something the kid has control over. They’re the first aspect of the world for which that’s actually true: The child can decide to sleep with the toy or not, to take it with them or not when they go somewhere, and so on. Deciding to have nothing to do with any more is just another example of this exertion of personal power. Of course, it’s also quite possible that tomorrow, or next week, or five years from now, he’ll decide to keep it close again.
As an aside, while transitional objects are usually soft, fuzzy things like baby blankets or stuffed animals, they can be almost anything. One of my cousins, for instance, had an old electric mixer that he dragged around by the cord everywhere.
yeah, I don’t even remember what “childhood cuddly toys” I had, if any.