January 16, 2012
Blankets seem to get named in my house. Not ordinary names like Frank or Ed. Frank is actually an imaginary British guy I made up who always tells my kids "I'm Frank and I like sausages" in a cockney accent. Ed was the name of my toilet in college and my University of Texas hat. No, the blankets are sensibly and obviously named.
For example, my big blue blanket that I've had since college is Big Blue. The blanket that a friend of the family made for Beth when she was a little girl is called Mommy's Blanket From When She Was A Little Girl. The giant red fuzzy blanket is called Big Red and the massive king-size comforter with all sorts of odd paisley designs is called Big Whatsit.
Two (or more) years ago, Mia gave up her princess blanket in favor of Big Blue claiming she would sleep under it forever. She thought it was cool that I'd used it in college and had it for, oh, 20+ years. She loves it and I'm happy for her to have it. Owen claimed Mommy's Blanket From When She Was A Little Girl six months ago. And because he's like me and likes to sleep under a dozen layers of stuff, he claimed Big Red last week.
The problem? Big Red was mine and, as mentioned, I like to sleep under a metric ton of blankets. So now I'm forced to sleeping under Big Whatsit with Beth. And I don't mind Big Whatsit nor am I averse to sharing with my lovely wife. But still...I miss Big Red.Posted by Chris at January 16, 2012 7:54 AM