I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about my childhood. Really. I think I might have a disorder.

A side-effect of my obsession with the past is that I remember just about every toy I ever owned. I remember my Wuzzle (I had Moosel), my Pound Puppy (her name was Bubblegum), my Pillow Person (he was blue and sleepy), my Care Bear (Love-A-Lot), even my See Wee (the one with the Walrus).

I rarely have those moments where I say, “Oh my gosh! I remember that!” because chances are, I never forgot it in the first place.

That’s why I was so shocked the other day when I stumbled upon a toy I had completely forgotten about–not so much because it’s unfathomable that I’d forget one, but because of how significant it was, especially in retrospect.

But first let me back up. When I was 6, I (and million of other kids) wanted nothing more than a Cabbage Patch Kid for Christmas. Not just any Cabbage Patch Kid, though. It had to be a boy with no hair and blue eyes.

Even though that was at the height of the Cabbage Patch craze, my parents somehow managed to find not only a Cabbage Patch Kid, but my bald, blue-eyed boy (who, now that I think about it, bears a striking resemblance to my third-born).

In true Cabbage Patch fashion, he came with a horrible name: Mort Leonard. I immediately shortened it to Lenny. To my 6-year-old self, opening that box was a life-changing moment. It was like I had a real baby. Lenny became my long-term “lovey,” and he is one of only four toys saved from my childhood.

The day after I received the doll, my great-grandparents gave me another present, the one I had forgotten about until just recently:

A car seat for Lenny.

When I stumbled upon the Cabbage Patch Kid car seat online the other day, my jaw literally dropped. I can understand how the gift hadn’t held much significance at the time (though it did get a lot of use). But over the years, wouldn’t something have triggered that memory, considering how much of my life is now devoted to car seats?

To be fair, the item wasn’t actually marketed as a car seat. It was called a rocker/carrier. It didn’t have a belt path, and I doubt it was ever intended to be used in the car. Still, it sure looks like an infant seat. I can’t imagine how my memory wasn’t jogged when I bought my daughter a Joovy infant seat for her dolls…even after she put one of my old Cabbage Patch Kids in it. But no.

Now I’m wondering what other holes I have in my memory. I’m also considering buying a Cabbage Patch Kid rocker/carrier off ebay, just for old times’ sake.