Every child has it.
That favorite toy. That special blanket. That irreplaceable stuffed animal.
For me, it was Bear-Bear, a fluffy brown bear that my great-grandmother gave me at the age of 5. It was nearly as big as me.
Wesley at the age of two adopted a small stuffed white dog with an orange ribbon on her neck and named her Baby Puppy. They’ve been inseparable ever since.
Caleb has latched on to a small Mickey Mouse doll that technically belonged to Wesley, but because Brother is so sweet and giving, he gleefully gave up Mickey as a gift to his little boy-shadow.
Caleb calls him “Mippie”, and asks for him every night when fatigue sets in at bedtime. But for several days now, Mippie has gone missing.
We’ve been busy. We’ve traveled several times in the last couple of months and Mippie somehow got lost in the shuffle. We’ve tried to give him a temporary replacement, like a stuffed leopard or a quilted dog, but he still asks for Mippie with giant, inquisitive blue eyes.
Today, the search has ended.
I opened it up, and there it was.
*cue angel music*
All is well in Toddler Town today. The Mippie has been found.