Caboose was given a flannel train blanket as an infant by a friend from church. It's just a large flannel blanket with a special train track stitchs around the edge in red thread. This is his beloved blanket. It is very well used, dingy, but you know how kids and blankies go.
Well, it has seen better days. It had many holes in it. It was in such bad shape, I didn't know how to fix it. He had asked me a number of times to fix it, but I hesitated because I didn't know if he would then reject it because it was smaller. His persistence won. It was taken to the sewing table where I figured the best way to "fix" it was to take off a 9-inch strip down one side. There was still a big hole beyond the 9-inch strip, but I figured it could probably be patched up. That's what I did and it worked well. I don't have a train track stitch on my sewing machine, so I used red thread and the closest matching stitch I could find.
So, I brought it upstairs to give to him. He was thrilled to know that it had been fixed. I carefully showed him what I had done. He then took the blanket from me and looked at the corners. Then, with a very worried look on his face, he said, "where's the hangy thingy"? Well, there were "hangy thingies" all over the place because the blanket was in shreds. As he asked the question, his chin started quivering and he was on the verge of crying. I quickly went downstairs and grabbed the 9-inch strip I had cut off earlier and brought it upstairs to show him. I asked him where the "hangy thingy" was. He pointed to the corner where there were 2 little pieces of fabric hanging - we're talking disgustingly, dingy, torn, ratty-looking "hangy thingies". I couldn't bear to see him cry. He wanted them sewn back on his blanket.
So, I cut the 2 "hangy thingies" off the strip and somehow figured out a way to attach them to the corner of the blanket. Go ahead, click on the picture. It's not pretty.
But it works. This is what he does with his "hangy thingy".
He wraps it around his finger and then he lifts it up by his face, and his nose, and plays with it, rubs his upper lip and his nose. His blanket smells like him. I love the smell of it - it's the smell of my son.
That, my friends, is the look of contentment (I know it's hard to tell behind the stoic facade, but Mama knows.) Caboose is happy. Mama is happy. I wish all of life's problems could be solved with hangy-thingies!
