Lately it seems that Alexis has been almost desperate for a pacifier. She's been crying, whining, searching, and longing for a beloved "binky." Each time she's gone on a tiny tirade, I've found it to be very VERY odd. She gave up the goods well over a year ago. While she didn't do it in a manner that could be called willingly, she survived and no one was injured. There are currently none in the house (as far as I know--those darn things breed like rabbits, though, so I expect to find them under the couch and in closets when we finally move in a bazillion years). For months now, I haven't been able to figure out why she suddenly was in desperate need of something that she hadn't cared about for so long.
In contrast to Alexis giving up paci without too much of a fight (there is a very good chance that I have just blocked the drama, just so we're clear), there is a little boy in daycare who is a few months younger than Alexis and has been fighting the war kicking, screaming, and with more dramatic flair than a bald umbrella-carrying Britney Spears. There have been several mornings that I've walked into daycare and have seen him standing in the middle of the room in the midst of a Category 5 meltdown. He's been fighting the war with dedication for weeks already, to the point that I wouldn't be totally shocked if he still is sucking on a pacifier when he gets his driver's license. He. wants. his. binky.
On Friday, Alexis and I were wandering through Wal-Mart (Side note--Dear Target, please open a store closer to my house. Love ya! Thanks.). As we took a quick glance at some clearance junk in the baby department, Alexis started in with the binky pleading.
"I want binky," she said.
"No," I replied.
She retorted, "I WANT PURPLE BINKY!"
A meltdown appeared to be just around the corner. In a rare and random moment of genius, it dawned on me that I should just ask her why shy wanted the stupid binky.
"(Insert little boy's name) needs a binky!"
What charges would be filed if we aided and abetted a pacifier addiction?
