Thursday, December 22, 2011

Poor Pluto

Pluto has been part of our family for over two years now. He’s been shopping with us. To Cape Cod with us. And just recently survived our family vacation to Disney World: amusement rides, dinners, bus trips, monorails, boat rides, tours, plane rides (including the #pukeonaplane incident) and more.
So, we get home and a week or so later, this.

Poor Pluto. Daisy decided that since Mommy was sleeping in and the kiddos were playing downstairs not paying attention to her she would play with Poor Pluto. Poor Pluto sacrificed his ear and his tail in the process.

When JP discovered Poor Pluto, we had tears. And then Mommy calmed him down. And then more tears. And some more tears. And even an offer to give Daisy away. And them Mommy calmed down.

JP then decided Mommy would get a new Pluto at WalMart and all would be right with the world. Although I was surprised it was just that easy for JP to get a new one, I was reluctant to give up on Poor Pluto in case we couldn’t find another one. But why wouldn’t we be able to, right? I mean, WalMart has everything.

Ignoring said reluctance, JP gave Poor Pluto to Daisy and told her she could have that one. “Ummmm? JP, that’s probably not such a good idea.”

After realizing Poor Pluto had been dropped into the shower with Sissy, I decided we’d put Poor Pluto away so Daisy didn’t have her way with him even more.

In addition to Sunday lunch break with Daddy, Karate, and a wonderful holiday Party an hour north, we managed to hit two WalMart Stores and a phone call to a third in search of Pluto. No luck (unless you want to consider Sissy encouraging JP to move on to Tigger or Pooh, or a teddy as luck. No, thank you, Babe. Let’s focus).

We encountered more tears. (Just JP’s, I swear).

On our gallivant home from the Holiday Party, I finally pitched the idea of Mommy fixing Poor Pluto’s boo-boos. I am not a seamstress by any stretch. I don’t even care to do buttons (that’s why I call on my Mommy). So this was a desperate measure on my part. I pictured all that Poor Pluto has been through and figured if blankies can make it through so much all these years in all these families, so can Poor Pluto.

In the dark, in JP’s room while sitting with him that night, Poor Pluto became whole again. I promised JP that if he went to sleep just this one night without Poor Pluto in this arms that he would awake with him right by his side in the morning. Mommy would fix him, give him a bath, and return him to his rightful spot.

And I kept my promise. Through needle stuck fingers and all.


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