Recently I was asked to bring an old lovie of mine or my child’s to an event.
I wasn’t able to go to the event but it made me stop and think about said lovie.
I call it a lovie.
Some might call it a security blanket or a stuffy.
It’s all the same.
Something that you or your child has held onto since they or you were small.
A “thing” to make all the bad things in the world a little less bad.
Meet Duck.
Or Ducky.
Sometimes Duck Duck.
Duck has been very well loved by my 6-year-old daughter.
He … I found out he is a he just this year … was given to my then 5-month-old baby by a former neighbor/friend.
She isn’t a former friend, just a former neighbor.
She lives near Indianapolis now.
Duck has slept with Ella every single night since that day.
2,192 days give or take a day.
He has weathered stomach flu and strep throat.
Cribs and big girl beds.
Crying it out and passing out cold in the car on long car rides.
He has been to Tennessee and seen mountain ranges, slept in motels, gone to the pool, flown in several airplanes and a couple of trains.
He has been there for kindergarten heartbreak, going in Ellie’s back pack for the first month of school.
She was allowed to go get him and give him a hug when she was having a rough day.
He was home for her.
He is getting worn, a hole in his rear end from where Ellie holds him every night to help her get to sleep.
His fur is no longer bright yellow from lots and lots of rides in the washing machine.
His eyes not as bright as they used to be 2,000 some days ago.
I wonder if the toy maker realized how much love this little animal would get while passing him down the assembly line.
I wonder if they realized how much that little piece of yellow cloth would mean to some little girl in Illinois.
I wonder if they knew that this little duck would be such a big part of a family.
I owe a lot to this little duck.
My sidekick on the sometimes rough road of parenting.
Maybe I will put him in the gentle cycle this week.
