Mazzy's blankie is named Boo. She came up with the name because we used to play "peek-a-boo" with her blankie when she was little.

Boo started as two old t-shirts of mine sewed together into a square. I put it in her crib when she first transitioned from the bassinet because I read that something with my smell would be comforting.

Every year or so, Boo starts to look like he could disintegrate in the next load of laundry, so we make/buy a new one and try to convince Mazzy that she loves this Boo just as much as the last.

We have had great success getting Mazzy to love the new Boo. Unfortunately, we have had less success convincing her to abandon the old Boo. She just adds them to her growing stockpile and carries them around all at once.

She refers to them lovingly as her "Boos".

We are in the process of convincing Mazzy to leave her Boos at home but sometimes she successfully convinces me to take them along in my purse.

The other day, we were in a restaurant when Mazzy said to me, "Mom, do you have my Boos in your purse?" 

And I said, "No sweetie, I don't. You can only have Boos at home."

It took me second to realize why I was getting a strange look from the waitress. 


For a three-year-old.


Mazzy's Booze has been documented often. There was "The Importance of Boo" which talks about how Boo is more important than everyone and everything (including me) and there was "The Death of Boo" which was obviously premature.

Boo has more lives than a cat. Boo is like a vampire who doesn't burn in the sun, making him even less likely to meet his demise. 

Wow. I just googled "Vampire Cat" and they are much more adorable than you would expect.

Photo Source: Jokeroo

Anyway, I've been thinking Boo is on his way out for at least two years now, but it seems like every time I try to enforce some "Boo Control" (i.e. You can keep Boo at home but you can't smuggle it to a birthday party and place it on the table next to the cake so everyone thinks a dirty dishrag is moving in on their dessert), it only makes him stronger. 

Months ago, my cousin gave us a book called Owen, in which the title character has a blankie. Every time I took out the book to read it, Mazzy would throw it clear across the room, shouting "NO! THAT'S A TERRIBLE BOOK!!!!"

After a few weeks of this, I told my sister. Just because I thought it was funny that Mazzy so vehemently hated a book we had never read. 

My sister laughed. "I read that book to Mazzy when you first got it. Do you know what it's about?"

No. No, I did not.

"Owen has a blankie and everyone is suggesting ways for the parents to help him get rid of it. Finally, the mom cuts the blankie into pieces to sew them into his backpack. I guess Mazzy didn't want you to get any ideas!"

And there you go. Boo's life saved once again.

Last weekend, we were out at another restaurant. After the meal was finished and we were paying the check, Mazzy said the words I fear I'll hear every time Boo exits the house.

"WHERE'S MY BOO???!!!"

I looked at the table. Totally cleared. 

Mike and I exchanged worried looks. 

Boo is as old of a rag as they come. How would a waiter know that it was our most prized possession? The thing on which our sanity teeters? The rag our lives revolve around? 

Mazzy got that look on her face. The puppy dog one where her eyes well up and her lip starts quivering and you know it's just a matter of moments before her inner demon is unleashed.

FYI- Demon Puppies are also much cuter than you would think.

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Photo Source: Sodahead

I ran to find our waiter. "Did you happen to see a tattered purple rag in four pieces and mistake it for garbage when you cleared the table?"


"DID YOU??????!!!!!"


"Where did you put the garbage?!"

The waiter took me into the kitchen where I stood face to face with a huge trash bin full of wilted lettuce, shrimp tails, gnawed on steak bones, and slimy pieces of chicken skin.

Gulp. Gag.


Gulp. Gag.



Okay, I thought. I'm going in!

Just then, Mike swung open the door, holding a triumpant Mazzy.

"We found Boo in the BATHROOM!!!!" she yelled proudly while lifting her Boo to the sky like Simba in the Lion King.

Life #457. Saved.

Thank God.

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Does your kid have a comfort item? What is it and when do you plan on getting rid of it?

UPDATE: I have a better idea. Post a picture of your kid's object of affection on the Mommy Shorts facebook fanpage. By itself without your child. Give me a brief description including its name, the name of its owner, and years in use.