Lost his sheep,
Then his Mommy about lost her mind!!
This is Buddy:
The Smaller Captor has had Buddy since before he was born, and this thing goes EVERYWHERE with us. He’s starting to look a little bit ragged, but all the best loved toys are. Buddy is the equivalent of the Velveteen Rabbit: he should probably be submitted for saint-hood. Except we’re Jewish, so that would be a little awkward.
The Smaller Captor has been
out of freakin control, people, I mean OMG, someone has taken my sweet boy and replaced him with this disaster child having a few behavior issues since his new baby sister came home. Everything is in one ear, out the next. He’s even resorted to fake crying in his room when he doesn’t get something or gets in trouble because, “Sarah cries and she gets what SHE wants.” (He’s never come right out and said that, but it’s written all over his face.) Never mind that she weighs 7 lbs and doesn’t ask for much other than some warm milk and clean pants. She doesn’t ask for things like movies and candy all the time. Or bazookas, hookers and blow. . . (Kidding! Put down the phone! No need to call child services.)
At any rate, the Smaller Captor got busted for stealing a piece of candy from off my nightstand. It was a cordial blueberry, which isn’t so great (sorry Grandpa), so I didn’t really care, but the Bigger Captor went all 3-mile island on him and the parental meltdown that followed was epic. I could have sold tickets. He took away some of the Smaller Captor’s favorite toys as punishment and then told the Small Captor to bring him Buddy. “Buddy will have to go sleep in the attic with your other toys and be lonely and cold.” Way to be overly dramatic and traumatizing there, dear. The kid didn’t seem to be stunned; I, on the other hand, was horrified. The kid returned empty handed and reported that he couldn’t find Buddy. I thought he was being cute and hiding Buddy to protect him; I was horribly mistaken.
BUDDY. WAS. GONE. Not like hiding in a box in his room or smothered in the sheets somewhere. Buddy was totally M.I.A. This is when I panicked. If the house was on fire, and I could only grab a few things, that sheep is on the list. Somewhere after the wine collection but before the Bigger Captor’s argyle sock collection. Priorities people, priorities. Anyway, it’s the toy you save and give back at graduation, or when he gets married. It has serious sentimental value.
I tore the kid’s room apart looking for it, went through every drawer, and tried to think of any place it could possibly be. Did we lose it in Budapest? Was it in the taxi that brought us back from the Budapest Incident? The Smaller Captor still showed no signs of remorse for his lost best friend. All day I reminded him about finding his sheep, how he should be looking everywhere. At one point the child came down the stairs with a teddy bear and said he had named the bear Buddy, too. That’s when I lost it. Was I irrational? Abso-freakin-lutely. I launched into a tirade about how you can only have one Buddy and he might be gone. FOREVER!!! And how could he be so calm about it?!?! I went to console myself in the kitchen and the kid disappeared.
Not too long after, the Bigger Captor called the Smaller Captor back downstairs for dinner. The child came but had obviously been crying his little eyes out. When asked what was wrong, he started sobbing, “I really miss my real Buddy, and I don’t know where he is.” It took all day, but the kid finally cracked. You could have taken a sledge hammer to this nut and it wouldn’t have happened any sooner. He might make a really good CIA operative in the future; I’ll have to remind him of this in the future.
I held the boy and rocked him for a few minuets and then suggested a few other places he might look, one of them being the Bigger Captor’s office. The child went in, and I expected him to return empty handed in a few seconds, but it was a Hanukkah miracle: BUDDY WAS ALIVE!!! Ok, not alive, but in the guest bed. He had been sick last week and laid down in that bed because it was close to a bathroom. I didn’t even think about that previously. Again, mother-of-the-year.
Needless to say, Buddy was not sent to the attic of doom with the other toys. I mean, after being lost, then found, who could send away a face like this?