“Elle is my friend,” is a common refrain heard around of my house.
Elle is an elephant – well, a stuffed elephant atop a soft grey baby blanket. She also goes by the name “Shaking Elle” due to the embedded rattle in her head. Basically she’s a newborn comfort blanket in animal form.
A well-loved lovey.
She is a crucial player in our bedtime (sanity) routine. As such, I try to treat her as the important member of our family she is.
Today we discovered a hole just below the neck stitching. Her left arm had separated and was almost completely detached. Emergency surgery was imminent, crisis management on the horizon.
Search: Mommy, Elle’s broken. She has a hole in her side. I need her fixed.
Me: Let me see, honey. Oh wow. Yes, yes she does.
Search: You save her, Mommy! You fix her!
Me: I’ll make her all better as soon as we get home, sweetie. Give her to me and I’ll stitch her up. Then are you going to take care of her?
Search: No, you fix her.
Me: Of course I will. But then you can make her feel better when she recovers from her boo-boos.
Search: Like Cooper? He has a very big owie. So we have to be nice to him, cuz otherwise it will hurt him.
Me: Exactly! Just like Cooper – the doctor made him better when he was sick, and then we have to make him feel better at home.
Search: And Daddy had an owie we had to be nice to, too.
Me: Yes he did.
Search: They had to go to the doctor. Then the doctor took out the bad stuff and put in a zipper to make it better.
Me: That’s right, sweetie. Almost… So I’ll sew her up and then you can help her feel better.
Search: Hey Mommy?
Me: Yes love?
Search: Elle’s not real.
Well then…I just got schooled by my 4-year-old.
I’m sure he’ll relish his victory while snuggling with his newly repaired lovey. She is his friend, after all. Even if she’s not real.