A Boy And His Blankie: A Love Story.

Well, I guess there's not much of a "story" to it: Charlie is in love. With The Blankie. I remember when Ella first got attached to her Blankie, and she really only wanted it when she was ready for a nap. When it was countdown to nap time, I would frantically rush around trying to find Blankie so that she could sleep. But Charlie's Blankie? Never leaves his side, ever. So at least I always know where the damn thing is. A lovely side effect of this is that, yes, it smells as fantastic as you would imagine it smells, since I can NEVER EVER ever wash it EVERRRR. The hour and a half it would take to put Blankie through the wash cycle and then dry it would just lead to Level Four Meltdowns Of Ginormous Proportions. He bites it, he rubs his whole face with it, he drags it all around the floor and he wants it while he's in his high chair eating. All of the above leads to: snot, drool, dog hair, and baby food. Covering Blankie. So if you get within ten feet of me when I'm out and about with my kids, and you are asking yourself "WHAT is that smell? Does someone have body rot?". It's Blankie.