“Life is like a blanket too short. You pull it up and your toes rebel, you yank it down and shivers meander about your shoulder; but cheerful folks manage to draw their knees up and pass a very comfortable night"
i am four. i am usually seven, but I have realized now, that my seven year old niece might be more mature than me in some aspects. why am I four you ask? I have a baby blanket. the fact that I am writing about this might be slightly embarrassing, but hey, its who I am. Me and this little pink blanket have been through a lot together. I have had it for forever, and have been attached to it for forever. When I was four I would sit by the dryer and wait for it to be done because I couldn't handle not having it. If I didn't have it, I couldn't sleep. Luckily, it is no longer to that point. I can sleep without it, and I have no problem throwing it in the wash. But it still goes with me most places, aka EFY.
Embarrassing moment came during the Illinois session this year when the session director asked who still had their baby blanket. My hand went up with a bunch of other participants. He then asked who had the blanket with them at EFY, mine was the only hand that went up. It didn't help that I was sitting in the front so I could help lead the medley so everyone could see, as I turned around and saw mine was the only hand up I sheepishly put it down. The session director went on to talk about his daughters baby blanket and equated it to virtue. He talked to me later about my baby blanket and made me bring it to our late night meeting so he could get a picture of me with my blanket to use in lessons to come. But this experience made my blanket even more special.
Mid-October I went to a friends cabin, in packing I grabbed my blanket, mainly because I wasnt sure how the sleeping arrangements would be and I can use it as a pillow. Well tragic day, I left it there. I called the next day to ask those who had stayed to bring it back with them and they said they would. crisis adverted. lies. they forgot to grab it. So for the last two months I have been sans blanket. I didn't realized how attached I was until I started having dreams about getting it back. I would be having a crazy dream and then suddenly someone would hand me my blanket. ridiculous? yes! but I am proud to say that on Wednesday, December 7, 2011, me and my little pink blanket were reunited, and I was just as happy as I was as a four year old when it would come out of the dryer. I'm almost positive Nate thought I was crazy, as well as the friend who brought it back to me, but I was as giddy as could be. But hey, aren't we supposed to be like little children?