This guy is king in our house. I know, I know, we all think Alexandra is the boss, and since I'm seriously considering making her a shirt that says "Getting my way since 2010", it's obvious that she does rule the roost. But the shit would utterly hit the fan if we lost this little blanket. His name is Ha Ha (because monkeys say ha ha hoo hoo, and so that is what Alex dubbed him), and he is required on almost all errands and social gatherings, is 100% mandatory for all naps and bedtimes, and one time even took a bath -- AKA was thrown into the tub -- with her, but since he then had to spend 40 minutes in the dryer, that was the last bath he took.
It fills my heart with fear, and my veins with ice-cold dread, whenever I think that we could lose him. Once she dropped him out of her stroller on a dog walk, and the terror was so real that I ran, retracing our steps, in the swiftly darkening twilight without a jacket or without shoes on my baby despite the brisk temperature, all because I was in such a panic. I found him four blocks away from our house, so casually discarded there in somebody's dirt yard that I could hardly believe it was him. Strangely enough, that same block is also where I found Todd's, now Alex's, Admiral Adama doll months later. Poor Adama. Poor Ha Ha.
Last Thursday I took Alexandra to Bookman's, a second hand bookstore (HUGE here), in order to freshen up her little home libary. We got nine books and Alex was appropriately stoked that three quarters of them were Elmo and Sesame Street books. So excited was she that Ha Ha was, once more, unceremoniously dumped by the pop-up book shelf of the kiddie section. My heart reacted in the same manner as when I ride roller coasters: the plummet of descent, the leaping of ascent, when I first realized he was missing and then, after half dragging my book-laden child through the store back to the kid's books, discovering him there, dangerously close to a big bin of stuffed animals for sale.
That was the last straw.
I'm not sure if other moms out there already figured this out, but last night I finally went on target.com to buy a Ha Ha clone (Alex was amazed to see him online; I guess she didn't realize he is a celebrity). $10 in merchandise and $5 in shipping later, we are eagerly awaiting Ha Ha 2.0 in the mail. I will put him somewhere high, secret and safe to wait for the time when he's called, for the time when the original Ha Ha is left behind in some store and sold to another kid, or for when he is tossed so vigorously on a dog walk that he lands in some scrubby bushes, never to be seen again except by another dog who will pee on him. I will miss the original if (when?) this happens, but not so much that I will hestitate to immediately unwrap Ha Ha 2.0, smear some yogurt into him and rub him vigorously on the dog bed to perfectly replicate the original's smell and appearance.
Because that's just the kind of mom I am.
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