A Sign Of The Times
October 6th, 2009 4 comments
I had a bright yellow blanket – Blankie (not very original). It had soft, satin edging that I would rub against my top lip while sucking my thumb. Everywhere I went, Blankie went. We were inseparable. When I stood under the washing line, Blankie flapping in the breeze; good and clean and fresh tra-la-la, my mom decided something had to be done. Blankie was cut up into Blanklets, which meant that one was always in the wings, when another was in the wash, or lost.
Recent Comments