Wanna hear something funny?
My son and I both have a 'woobie'.
His is called 'blankee' and mine is called a 'snuggie'
I guess I've passed on my love of all things tactile.
I'm thinking that it's like love at first sight, or feel, in this case.
Danny's blankee came to us not via a baby shower or the usual way, but from Delta airlines.
Before he turned two, we went to NH for Christmas. You've heard the old adage, 'you can't get there from here'? Well that applies to all flights into NH. Of course there it sounds like:
"You can't get theyah from heyah"
But once again I'm wandering. (Hey, it's easy to do at 3:31 a.m.)
After several layovers, stopovers, cancelled and delayed flights we were finally on our way to our final destination and my poor baby was exhausted. The flight attendant was kind enough to cover him as he slept on my lap with one of those navy blue 'freebie' blankets (remember how they used to have those in the 'olden days'?) and he has refused to let go ever since.
I used to panic that he'd lose it and never be able to sleep again. I would ask family and friends who were flying to "pick-up" a blanket or two on their flights for use as back-up.
Did you know that there's a difference in airline blankets? Yup, neither did I. But I tell you what.. my son knew and knows. His blanket is his blanket for better or worse and it works for him.
Now I on the other hand....
I received my snuggie as a borderline joke gift this Christmas. I was complaining, as usual, about how cold I was.
But.... here's the thing....
When you complain via Facebook... you get results.
The next thing I know, not even an hour after posting my discomfort, a snuggie arrives at my front door.
(Thank you Lisa!)
Now, for those of you who may not know, the snuggie lives up to the hype.
It DOES keep you warm!
and it IS addicting
It's not the warmth factor that got me.
It's the damn tag.
Oh my gosh. It's like crack cocaine.
I swear it's why I'm not sleeping!
I don't even wear the dang thing anymore! I just hang onto the sleeve and run it through my fingers.
Over and over and over again.
My son, who's eight, has the good sense to put his blanket aside to fall asleep. But I can't let go!
I'll have to see if there's a 12-step program for this one.