Today I was sadly reminded that my babies are growing up. My son woke up and came downstairs to my room as always. With one MAJOR exception. He didn't have Draffy! When I asked of Draffy's whereabouts, my son responded, "I don't know, Mom. I'm a big boy now, and big boys sleep by themselves."
*GASP*
*sniff, sniff* Tito, give me a tissue.
Mama nearly cried. I, personally, am not ready to give up Draffy! It's too soon. I don't think I can bare to leave this phase. I'm not ready to have a farting, stupid joke-telling, smelly, annoying boy. I have no choice, though. It suppose it was inevitable. Sooner or later my baby boy would be transformed. I just didn't realize it would happen so quickly and without some sort of notice or warning.
As I wallow in melancholy, the memories come flooding back. I feel the need to honor the best friend a boy and his mama could have. Without Draffy, our family would not have survived the last five years. Mama would have dabbled in the poison Kool-Aid long before now if it weren't for him. I've made complete U-turns 50 miles into a trip to retrieve Draffy. We've scoured every crevice of our home (usually at 2 am) at one time or another Desperately Seeking Draffy. Were it not for his soft mane, chewy antler (or is that a horn?), and squeaky hands, the big E would probably still be getting up every two hours at night.
The best part of Draffy -- his antler/horn/thingamajig on top of his head!
When E was sick or down in the dumps, Draffy could make him smile.
A sweet boy and his best friend...
Even a baby sister couldn't come between a boy and his Draffy.
Draffy's been to Disney World more times than any other toy in the Continental U.S.
A lonely Draffy today...
Mr. Draffy has been a friend through thick and thin. He's been peed on and puked on and covered with chocolate pudding. He's been through the washer, the dryer, the microwave, and the freezer. There have been days where Draffy smelled so bad even the dog wouldn't lay with him. His right antler or horn or thingamajig is gone. Chewed off by his best bud, E. His hands are now covered with gloves (compliments of my Big Mama maternity drawers) as those satin paws were worn down to threads. Yes, Mr. Draffy has seen better days.
You will be missed, dear friend, but you will never be replaced.
Psst... Hey, Draffy! Relax, you're going to a very special place. I've got a nice keepsake box especially for you. I bet one day Mr. E will need your company again.
