Childhood trauma in our home is defined as this: blanket-washing time.
When the blankies get to smelling, looking, or otherwise appearing on the nasty side (or when, like today, they've been dragged around one too many hotel bathrooms), they must be washed. Under normal circumstances, I smuggle them out of beds, play areas, or unsuspecting noses in a dirty towel. And, if I'm especially lucky, they make it through the wash in about 1 1/2 hours without notice. That is, of course, until someone gets a whiff of clean blankie, then there's always a complaint or two.
That is on a good day. But recently, the children have been just a little too keen - or a little too attached - to be tricked by my schemes. And so, when it is discovered that the blankies are in the wash, the caucophony of wails resound. And now, blessed as I am, there are two participants instead of just one. It's really unbelievable. An inescapable. They follow me around. They try to break into the washing machine. They try to out-do each other in terms of volume and drama.
And just now I had an epiphany. Most of you would've already thought of this by now. Call me a slow learner. As my dad would say, 'better than a no-learner'.
The children must grieve the loss of blankies and their stench in their own rooms.
Ahhh. Out of ear-shot. Without looking at each other. Not clinging to my legs. Washing machine intact.
And you know? They only grieved about 5 minutes. Now, they're peacefully watching an animal movie, waiting for supper, with a substitute blankie. And, as I type, their blankie nastiness is getting washed down the drain.
Score one for me. It's about time!
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5 comments:
That's so funny. Only because I did have to hear the fussing. Thankfully we've avoided the object obsession so far. Recently, Christiana has been trying to bring her blankets out of bed with her though.
How are you doing? Will we get to see any belly shots soon?
Sophia's our first one attached to anything. And the apple of her eye is also a blankie. Blanket washing time is also traumatic for her, especially when Mama decides to hang it outside to dry. She'll sit by the window, crying, "My bankie! My bankie!" It really is sad. I have panic attacks thinking what would happen if we ever lost it.
But it so cute and fun when I get to give it back to her. Such joy!
Fun story, Cody, and good job on the epiphany!
elisa
You are so stinking hilarious! I can't stop laughing to write more!!!
I snatched Levi's smelly blankie tonight after he fell asleep and it drying right now! I suppose it won't be long and I will hear his fits!
Maija has very serious love for her blankie as well!! The time cannot pass quickly enough when blankie is stuck in the washer/dryer... but there is nothing better than a fresh, clean, warm blankie to snuggle with!
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