Sam has a blankie and a doggie that he simply MUST take with him to daycare/preschool every day. The blankie is usually one of the two that I made him, so I think that's sweet. The doggie is this floppy thing he got as a Christmas gift for his first Christmas from one of my aunts. He's developed an attachment to this poor thing and can't eat, sleep, or travel without having it by his side.
This morning, while going through their normal morning routine of Steve folding Sam's still 3/4 sleeping body into his coat, I heard Sam say, "No, that's MY blankie." I giggled and said, "Nobody's going to mug him in his sleep." And it's true...he has a sort of radar about these two snuggly items that is adorable to watch. I thought it was a unique part of his story. Until this morning.
I was driving to work through the quiet residential neighborhood near the courthouse and I past this little yellow house. The mother was attempting to usher her half asleep daughter out the front door. They were headed to preschool. Know how I know? Yep...a blankie and a doggie.
OK...so it's still a unique part of Sam's life story. But it also means he part of something bigger. And when I think of him spending all his time during the day at daycare/preschool, I can smile and know that he's not alone out there with his blankie and his doggie.