What if, let's just suppose, something happened to it. Let's suppose it was tainted in some way. Maybe it was hurt just a little and the defect couldn't totally be fixed. Maybe it was trashed really badly and the stain or smell couldn't be completely removed.
Would it still be your favorite thing in the world? Would you still want to snuggle it when you were scared or sick? Would you still want to carry it when you went to a friend's house? Speaking in adult language, would you still want it displayed proudly in your foyer so that all of your friends would see it when they visit?
I think we want to believe we would love something just as much if something happened to it. I think we want to believe we are humble enough that we will be happy to have the thing we love regardless of the shape it's in.
Then, there is the flip side. Should we want a lovey (what a friend of mine has always called those things of childhood) that is damaged, dirtied, irreparable? It's not that the damage would rub off on us, but it can't bring us the joy it once did and there is no going back. Something that damaged can't be repaired. What is the threshold for "that" damaged?
Whether the lovey is kept or disregarded is really of no consequence because the joy it once gave us is gone forever. Once that damage has occurred, there isn't a spit shine bright enough; there isn't a seamstress talented enough; there isn't enough money to get it fixed just so that it is like new. It will never be new again.
