Every kid has his/her favorite thing. Whether it be a blanket or a stuffed animal or even a drumstick, the kid is attached to it. Mason and Cooper each have their own favorite thing. For Cooper, it is his doggie. Not even a drumstick, a lacrosse stick or a hockey stick (are we seeing a pattern here?) hold a candle to doggie. It used to go everywhere with us, but we eventually had to relegate it to bedtime only. Doggie has a nice dark drawer to call home when Cooper is not sleeping. But as soon as we mention nap time or bedtime, out comes doggie and into Cooper’s mouth he goes. Jeremy thinks doggie is gross, even though I wash it constantly. Personally, I love the smell of doggie. It just smells like Cooper, and I love it.
For Mason, that favorite thing is Hippo. She got Hippo as a baby, and he has been a mainstay in her life since then. He goes on trips with us, to school for show and tell, and of course, into bed with her. Emma, Dolly, Caroline… none of her dolls can hold a candle to Hippo.
It was no surprise that Mason wanted to bring Hippo in the car with us to go on some errands last week. He’s a good companion. But sadly this decision would bruise him forever. It was a nice day, so the windows in the car were left open. Before Mason got in the car, she threw Hippo in first. Then, when she went to open the sliding doors, Hippo fell down between the door and the car. You can only guess what happened then… Yup… oil/grease from the sliding door got all over him. Mason started crying. Heck, I wanted to cry too! I put him on the floor of the car while we went on errands. It was like I was shunning him for being dirty. Poor Hippo. When we got home, I put him up on a shelf unsure of how to handle his stains. There, he sat, looking down on us like a forgotten toy. (It’s times like these that I really do believe Toy Story holds some truth to it!) He sat there for 2 more days while I tried to figure out what to do with him.
Mason kept asking for Hippo, and I kept denying her her favorite thing afraid that he would spread the oil/grease onto her or her bed. She slept with Emma those couple of nights, and Hippo slept alone on the shelf. Finally, I knew I had to do something. All I could think to do was to at least get most of the extra oil/grease residue off of him so that when he was hugged again, the oil/grease would not get all over Mason. It seemed to work, but he’s still dirty. Jeremy says he has bruises. Yes, he has “bruises” on his body, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had bruises on his heart for how I treated him for those 3 days. Hopefully the love that Mason has given him since he was “cleaned” will make up for the banishment. She could care less that he is dirty. He is still her favorite, and for that, I am grateful. Thank you, Hippo, for bringing joy and love to my daughter. And thank you to Mason for teaching me that our favorite things are always worth loving, bruises or not.