I like my baby blanket. I like my bunny, Fluffy. I have also come to the conclusion that there is nothing wrong with the fact that I am twenty years old and I would rather sleep with both my Blanky and Fluffy than without them. Even if that makes me the world's biggest loser...
Look at how cute they are they are!
The blanket was actually my sister's. My mom cannot remember who made it for her but whoever it was did a darn good job. Blanky will soon be 25 years old and it has held up exceptionally well. There is one corner where the crocheted loop is bigger than any other but that is because when I was little I constantly held that loop with one finger tucked tightly around it. Awww, I know, how sweet. Everyone picture little Maura - I probably have "hot budge" sauce on my face from ice cream, my hair is a mess and I just might be missing my two front teeth from an incident involving the YMCA pool and a trip to the dentist...
Now picture me crying. Why? Because I have three siblings, whom I love dearly, but also sometimes want to kill. Meghan has just threatened to take Blanky back because technically it's hers, she had it first. Heck no, Indian-giver! Kevin has probably just referred to Fluffy as "Lumpy" which is terribly offensive since she can't help that years of wear and tear have left her inner batting less than fluffy. And Colin? Well, as the baby of the family, he probably drooled on one of them or something.
Despite my sibling-induced struggles with Fluffy and Blanky, they've always been faithful companions. Coming on family vacations despite my deep fear of leaving one of them behind all alone in a hotel room. Fluffy made journeys to various summer camps secretly stuffed in the bottom of my pillowcase - I'm sure you all did something similar! And finally, they joined me at college...until the beginning of this semester, when I decided to try and "grow up" and be without them.
Guess what people - I did grow up without them. I realized that sleeping with a small crocheted blanket wrapped around my feet or a lumpy stuffed animal in the crook of my elbow does not make me a child. Who cares what people think about my pastel Blanky and pink Fluffy bunny. I like them. I can do without them just fine, but I like them. And that is just fine, even if I am a mature adult. If you don't like it, too bad - just don't call her Lumpy!
So, what was your childhood security item? Is it still around? Is it secretly stuffed at the bottom of your pillowcase or displayed proudly on your bed? I am fond of a little blanket and a pink bunny - and I could careless if the entire blogosphere knew this fact!