Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Bunny Love

The Blonde Bombshell is four weeks away from turning four, but personally I still consider her young enough to want and need a favourite stuffed toy.

Bunny, (it's a descriptive name, not a creative one), is a four year old, foot long stuffed pink rabbit.  He used to be bright pink, with luxuriously soft fur but after numerous adventures in the washing machine he is now more of a muted and munted shade of crispy beige.  He is very loved, or was, until a few nights ago...

'Ok sweetie, time for bed.  Here's Bunny...' I started tucking him under the covers next to her but she pushed him away.

'I don't need him anymore,' and promptly tossed him down the end of the bed, where he landed on his head, legs splayed in a most undignified pose.

You don't need him anymore?

What on earth could have happened overnight that made her go from considering Bunny to be only slightly less important than Mum and Dad (but more important than her baby sister) to considering him unnecessary?  What could have happened to make her decide that the toy she wrapped in a blanket each night so he wouldn't get cold no longer rated a place next to her in the bed?  What could have happened to stop her loving a bunny that we once had to drive across Perth in the rain during nap time to collect when we left him at a friend's house because she couldn't possibly sleep without him?

My heart crumpled and landed on its head in a most undignified position.  I wanted to pick Bunny up and cuddle him and tell him she didn't mean it, that it was all a big misunderstanding.  Gosh, I even considered taking him into my room and letting him sleep with me.

But I didn't.  I left him on his head, kissed the Bombshell goodnight and walked away.

The next night, despite my placing him temptingly on the pillow at bedtime, he was again relegated to the end of the bed.  Again the following night.

Why does it matter, I ask myself?  Why am I so upset about this?  It's a stuffed toy, not a pet puppy.

Tonight, after the Bombshell had fallen asleep, I discreetly moved Bunny and placed him next to her.  His big, black plastic eyes stared straight ahead, up at the ceiling.  Later, when I went in to turn off her bedside lamp, her arm was wrapped around his neck, her cheek pressed against his.  His big black plastic eyes showed his thanks, and I picked up the restored pieces of my heart and went to bed.

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