My old clown puppet

This little fellow was given to me by my Grandmother in the mid 60s.

He was a constant source of frustration as his strings were forever getting tangled.

For a while I hated him ("hate's a strong word dear").  Whatever, every time I played with him his strings would tangle and I would give up in frustration. Years later I found him (tangled) in a box and was very pleased with myself at how easily I was able to untangle him.