I've learned many things from my children, although I don't always admit it to them. Recently, I learned one from my 3-year-old niece. Dear sweet Allyson, although my sister might argue with my classification, recently gave up her pacifier. My sister orchestrated a grand hand over to Mickey Mouse during a spring visit to Disney World.
A month ago, I called my mother and heard Allyson's heartbreaking whine in the background. When I asked what was wrong, Mom put Allyson on the phone. "I miss my pacie. Mickey has it. Can you call him and ask for it back?"
Funny how different my Aunt response is from my Mom response. "I will contact him immediately and see what I can do." I then called my sister and said, "Give that child her pacifier back." Okay, I didn't really do that, but I wanted to. The poor child sounded pitiful and all she wanted was her pacifier.
Don't we all have something in our lives we are just not ready to give up? It's a pacifier at three; a glass of wine every night in our thirties. For me, it's the serial comma recently abolished by Oxford (there's a great post: Don't Kill the Oxford Comma!). But, I digress.
I concocted a plan with my sister. I went to Michaels and bought a necklace, several pacifier charms, and multiple beads. I made a bracelet with pacifiers dangling and her name spelled out as well as a necklace with a single blue pacifier (her favorite one was blue) hanging from it. I sent these to her with a letter from Mickey explaining how her pacifier was making a big difference to a small child who needed it, and how he was so impressed with her. (I might have also mentioned how her Aunt Tia contacted him!)
Indulge me as I share the picture of her reaction:
She might not know how her Aunt Tia nearly lost her eyesight putting together that bracelet, but I hope she always knows how much I love her. If only we could all have a "Mickey" to help us through those things we fight giving up. Sometimes it just takes some encouragement and ingenuity to make the medicine go down.
Comma Queen, might you sprinkle some dust and make me forget about serial commas. Or, better yet, sprinkle some dust over the Oxford people so they might make a rule and stick to it.