When I was expecting Morgen, my mother gave me a pair of unusual pyjamas. Think of a over-sized hooded jogging suit made entirely of buble gum pink fun fur. It's the kind of sleepwear that Gavin describes as "not your most fetching." He complains whenever I pack the pjs for a trip, because they take up about a quarter of our suitcase.
Why do I pack them every time we go anywhere? It's not because I have an affinity for big fluffy pink things, although admittedly, the suit is extremely comfortable. It's because of Morgen. Since weaning, Morgen's ultimate comfort object has been the big "pink fuzzy." It happened by accident. In the fall, when it got cold in our apartment and when I was spending most nights awake in Morgen's room, I took to wearing the pink fuzzy pretty much all the time. And after months of enjoying late night cuddles and bedtime lullabies wrapped in my fun fur-clad arms, Morgen has decided that the fuzzy pink should be loved in return. Lately I've been considering modifying the jacket by removing the zippers and sewing up the pockets, etc., so that I can put it into Morgen's crib at night. But if I do this, where will it end? Will we have to pack up the pink fuzzy and send it off to college along with Morgen when she grows up? I have this very unsettling mental image of Morgen huddled in front of a study desk late at night, with a tattered, grey-pink cape hanging from her head by the remains of a threadbare hood.
Some babies get attached to blankies, others to toys. I've heard of one little boy who loved his soother literally to pieces. My brother probably still has "BuBu" the blue bear in his bedroom closet. And all of that is ok, as far as I'm concerned. I'm not the type who would progressively cut Morgen's pink fuzzy into pieces until she has less and less of it to love. Mostly I'm amused by her attachment to the hoodie. But I am a bit sorry it had to be pink.
