Death to a Blanket

Alternate Title: Growing Up Is Painful

Tavis has slept with his Aunt Carol quilt for 11 years, 8 months and 4 days.  It has slowly deteriorated.  I've been afraid to wash it.  Not really sure how it has survived.

Tavis is my scattered brained child that would lose his head if it wasn't attached - you know what I mean!  The dog has chewed many things, but somehow has not gotten to this.  Until today.

I caught Omar in my office (if you are missing something that might have been chewed by the dog, look in my office), shredding Tavis blanket.  I wanted to cry...  But I just called Tavis, faced him toward my office and left.  Tavis grabbed the blanket, or what was left and ran to his bed to have a good cry.  There might have been some kicking and screaming toward the dog, but I would hate to confess that.

Then Tavis and Daddy had a little pep talk.  And now, Tavis has no blanket.  Makes me teary.  A new era in motherhood.  A new era in his childhood.

But I know he still has the biggest piece he could find tucked under his pillow to rub when needed.  And I get an odd sense of relief from that.