"I miss him--the old Leaf--where is he?"
Leaf is a ten cent stuffed animal rabbit rescued from the throw away bin at this passed summer's garage sale hunt. A rabbit, I might add, that had seen better days (and nights). But the kiddo insisted, and grandma cajoled, and lo-and-behold, Leaf had found a new home.
The weekend turned into a long summer. One in which a new bike, hours in the sandbox, and time spent at the zoo took over. Leaf again found himself amongst the forgotten toys at the bottom of the chest.
Fast forward to the present, an almost four year old whom was never fond of a 'lovey' or any toy beyond plastic jointed superheroes--is suddenly Leaf-sick. So much so, I've scoured the house, the garage, the Goodwill bags awaiting drop-off in the basement, and every nook and cranny that exists in the house. And we're still on the hunt for Leaf. The original, stark white, long eared thing of summer.
Time called for drastic measures. After 12-odd stores and more on-line searches than I can count, I took the last ultimate sacrifice, and found a replacement bunny. One, I might add, that did nothing to fool the kid. So much so, he agreed to name the replacement Leaf, but on only one condition, he'd be dubbed New Leaf as to not forget the favorite, more cherished of the rabbits.
And so we've lived with New Leaf, with hardly a whimper for a little over two weeks. Timely enough, I'd almost thought I was successful. New Leaf has snuggled, consoled, and even relieved a wearily tired child. Alas, my ego soared, I felt the damage of a lost toy was undone. Unfortunately, I couldn't be more wrong. Very. Very. Wrong.
Last night, in the throws of night time terror, he cried out in his sleep for Leaf. Just Leaf. When I came to the rescue, he only uttered between tears of sadness, "Mom, I miss Leaf. The old Leaf. We must find him."
The hunt begins. Again.
The weekend turned into a long summer. One in which a new bike, hours in the sandbox, and time spent at the zoo took over. Leaf again found himself amongst the forgotten toys at the bottom of the chest.
Fast forward to the present, an almost four year old whom was never fond of a 'lovey' or any toy beyond plastic jointed superheroes--is suddenly Leaf-sick. So much so, I've scoured the house, the garage, the Goodwill bags awaiting drop-off in the basement, and every nook and cranny that exists in the house. And we're still on the hunt for Leaf. The original, stark white, long eared thing of summer.
Time called for drastic measures. After 12-odd stores and more on-line searches than I can count, I took the last ultimate sacrifice, and found a replacement bunny. One, I might add, that did nothing to fool the kid. So much so, he agreed to name the replacement Leaf, but on only one condition, he'd be dubbed New Leaf as to not forget the favorite, more cherished of the rabbits.
And so we've lived with New Leaf, with hardly a whimper for a little over two weeks. Timely enough, I'd almost thought I was successful. New Leaf has snuggled, consoled, and even relieved a wearily tired child. Alas, my ego soared, I felt the damage of a lost toy was undone. Unfortunately, I couldn't be more wrong. Very. Very. Wrong.
Last night, in the throws of night time terror, he cried out in his sleep for Leaf. Just Leaf. When I came to the rescue, he only uttered between tears of sadness, "Mom, I miss Leaf. The old Leaf. We must find him."
The hunt begins. Again.
