erinch
Parsing the same ee cummings poem for 20 years
- Joined
- Mar 22, 2001
- Messages
- 3,511
Taking the In Laws Blankie story reminded me of our Blankie Epic Saga, which vaguely involves Disney.
Cast of Characters:
Me: Erin; age 46, but think I'm MUCH younger. Disneygirl at heart.
DH: Kent; age 58; (I think he's much younger). Went to Disneyland the third day it was open. Notices that things have changed since then.
DS: Graham, age 17, was at WDW when still in mommy's tummy. Good kid except for when we say "My God! We have to kill him!" (Spent most of his life until a year ago with catastrophic asthma and worldclass food allergies, so this is a step up from saying "My God! He's going to die!" Still has asthma, under control; still allergic to milk and treenuts and peanuts, but can tolerate small amounts of milk products, which makes all the difference in the world of eating. Nuts aren't so hard to avoid by comparison.)
DD: Meredith, age 9. Meredith's first name means "Great Chieftan" or "Protector of the Sea" (not just a paltry ocean mind you, but the Sea) and her middle name, Aidan, means "Fiery Spirit" so we deserve what we got.
Meredith, my 9yo DD charts the course of her years by her blankies.
The Pre-Trip Tale of 4 Blankies
First was Orange Bunny Blankie (only she could see either the orange or the bunny part; they were invisible under the uniformly beige "tint" since it could not be washed).
Orange Bunny Blankie met her maker 30 seconds after a trip to visit Santa Claus when Meredith was 2.
We had had fair warning. She (Orange Bunny, which has gender like a French noun) got left once at the Chinese Buffet, but we remembered and went back and got her and she was still there. Meredith was in hysterics. We knew right then we oughtta put a GPS system on her (the blankie, not Meredith).
But the day came I was mega shopping at the mall while DH took the kids to see Santa so I could megashop. He bought the $20 polaroid picture and LEFT the blankie. When I met up with them 20 minutes later I was plastered in bags I was trying to hide and they were plastered in Chaos. Santa STOLE Orange Bunny. Then Santa and the elf with the expensive camera went on break. By the time they came back (we waited an hour), Orange Bunny was nowhere to be found.
The $20 polaroid picture was enthroned on DD's table as "the last time I saw Orange Bunny." Every night DD would pray to Santa and to God that Santa would bring Orange Bunny back and put her in the stocking on Christmas Eve. Since DH and I are both presbyterian clergy when we're not at Disney, it was a little embarrassing to have prayers ascending to the Holy Trinity, God, Jesus and Santa.
Santa did NOT bring Orange Bunny, which pretty much destroyed the old magic moment opening the stockings, but after a lot more praying to Whomever was listening, we managed to swap in Old Sheepie Blankie (so called because the sheepies looked older than the sheepies on New Sheepie Blankie which were not nearly as desirable as the sheepies on Old Sheepie Blankie.)
Old Sheepie Blankie was the 5th member of our household ....
(not counting the Ball Python snakes, Monty 1, Monty 2, Monty 3, Monty 4, and Monty 5, which we had to have as pets because DS had asthma and we couldn't do feathers or fur and the box turtle turned psychotic and banged his head bloody trying to go North, and we had to release it in a blessing ceremony and sprinkle it with water and chant "You are Free to Go North!" and the lizard, named Lizard, fell on its back on the heat pad and couldn't get up and fried and dessicated by the time we found it, so we got Monty 1, who turned out to be anorexic and had to be fed with a feeding tube until it died, and Monty 2 was big and mean and nasty and got traded in for Monty 3, who was just right until he crawled away in July, and so we got Monty 4, and then Monty 3 came crawling back out of my bookroom again on SuperBowl Sunday, so then we had both Monty 3 and Monty 4 at the same time, and a lot more mice in the basement than while Monty 3 was free, and then somehow we had neither of them, but Monty 5 instead, but I don't remember the details of that because ....)
Ahh, I digress.
Old Sheepie Blankie was the 5th member of the househol. Meredith acquired her at age 2 and she stayed with us until age 4. The Old Sheepie Era came to an end when we were at Disney; the San Angel Inn to be exact; the first table for 4 nearest the river and the entrance to the boat ride to be even more exact. Old Sheepie was with us when we went in. Old Sheepie was not with us when we came out; a fact we did not realize until we were standing in front of the Figment ride.
Since I am the second most assertive member of the family (DD is first Queen; I am second Queen) I went jogging back in dripping heat; (it was August) to the pyramid to get Old Sheepie. Probably 20 minutes had elapsed since we departed, leaving Old Sheepie All Alone. In San Angel they no habla Old Sheepie. I took French in High School. I took a minute to curse myself for a) not taking Spanish;or b) not eating at France for lunch.
"Did you find a baby blanket? I mean a rag? Color beigy-brown-gray? Used to have Old Sheepies on it? Parlez-vous Francais? Non?? Can I look? I'm going to look anyhow. Do you know who cleaned this table?" Rats, I think to myself, using another word entirely, with a different meaning. They have no idea what I am talking about.
This is not the first time we lost something in the San Angel. In a previous visit we had left a camera there. We got out as far as the steps, and realized it was missing and went back. It was gone. There were a number of table busing type people on that occasion who looked a bit furtive and guilty, and the manager graciously sent us a check for $300, even though we didn't ask for that, since it was our own d*mn fault we left the camera. But he saw the same looks we did. But this time, when the words Old Sheepie Blankie floated across the crowded dining mesa, no one looked guilty. They just looked uncomprehending. Why would anyone carry around a frayed beige piece of rag? I did look around to see if she might be wiping tables. No luck.
Come on Santa, I prayed, just rapture me away right now. NOW would be a good time for the New Creation where lost blankies are no more. Please don't let me live all the way back across Epcot to where I have to go tell the 4 year old Queen of the Whole Universe that Old Sheepie, who used to be with us half an hour ago, has now crossed the Great River joining Orange Bunny in Blankie Paradise. Since the theology was as tangled as the family saga, this prayer, too, went to the dead prayer office.
Have you ever heard the howl of a 4 year old Queen of the Universe??? It echoes in your sleep. For years. Right then, we had to go file a missing Old Sheepie Blankie report at Lost and Found, which was the exact opposite direction of where I wanted to go, which was to admire Off Kilter and their, umm, legs. We had to describe her exactly (brownish beige gray rag which used to have old sheep on it) and check Lost and Found every single day. Twice. And call them when we got home.
Did you know that of all the paraphenia they sell in Disney and Orlando, Old Sheepies aren't one of them? OR blankies???We finally subbed in a cute Minnie/Mickey towel. It WASN'T the same. Mickey STOLE Old Sheepie.
Next came Chooch. Not Chooch blankie. Just Chooch. Chooch is so nomenclatured because there is a little picture of a locomotive in one of Cute Common Toy spaces. DH says its much better than calling it "Old Balls Blankie." Chooch was with us from age 5 (we floundered a bit between relationships)
to age 8. Fortunately, just before Chooch was ready for the Old Blankie home in the sky, someone gave us another identical twin Chooch, except that New Chooch was still recognizable as a blankie. When I find the camera I will post a picture of Old Chooch. She still lives in the "precious things" box on top of DD's bureau.
The point of this pre-trip report is to inform you that this summer, DH, me, Bad Boy DS, Queen DD and Chooch (new) will be making the trip to Disney once again. Stay tuned. Don't tell Santa and don't tell Mickey.
Cast of Characters:
Me: Erin; age 46, but think I'm MUCH younger. Disneygirl at heart.
DH: Kent; age 58; (I think he's much younger). Went to Disneyland the third day it was open. Notices that things have changed since then.
DS: Graham, age 17, was at WDW when still in mommy's tummy. Good kid except for when we say "My God! We have to kill him!" (Spent most of his life until a year ago with catastrophic asthma and worldclass food allergies, so this is a step up from saying "My God! He's going to die!" Still has asthma, under control; still allergic to milk and treenuts and peanuts, but can tolerate small amounts of milk products, which makes all the difference in the world of eating. Nuts aren't so hard to avoid by comparison.)
DD: Meredith, age 9. Meredith's first name means "Great Chieftan" or "Protector of the Sea" (not just a paltry ocean mind you, but the Sea) and her middle name, Aidan, means "Fiery Spirit" so we deserve what we got.
Meredith, my 9yo DD charts the course of her years by her blankies.
The Pre-Trip Tale of 4 Blankies
First was Orange Bunny Blankie (only she could see either the orange or the bunny part; they were invisible under the uniformly beige "tint" since it could not be washed).
Orange Bunny Blankie met her maker 30 seconds after a trip to visit Santa Claus when Meredith was 2.
We had had fair warning. She (Orange Bunny, which has gender like a French noun) got left once at the Chinese Buffet, but we remembered and went back and got her and she was still there. Meredith was in hysterics. We knew right then we oughtta put a GPS system on her (the blankie, not Meredith).
But the day came I was mega shopping at the mall while DH took the kids to see Santa so I could megashop. He bought the $20 polaroid picture and LEFT the blankie. When I met up with them 20 minutes later I was plastered in bags I was trying to hide and they were plastered in Chaos. Santa STOLE Orange Bunny. Then Santa and the elf with the expensive camera went on break. By the time they came back (we waited an hour), Orange Bunny was nowhere to be found.
The $20 polaroid picture was enthroned on DD's table as "the last time I saw Orange Bunny." Every night DD would pray to Santa and to God that Santa would bring Orange Bunny back and put her in the stocking on Christmas Eve. Since DH and I are both presbyterian clergy when we're not at Disney, it was a little embarrassing to have prayers ascending to the Holy Trinity, God, Jesus and Santa.
Santa did NOT bring Orange Bunny, which pretty much destroyed the old magic moment opening the stockings, but after a lot more praying to Whomever was listening, we managed to swap in Old Sheepie Blankie (so called because the sheepies looked older than the sheepies on New Sheepie Blankie which were not nearly as desirable as the sheepies on Old Sheepie Blankie.)
Old Sheepie Blankie was the 5th member of our household ....
(not counting the Ball Python snakes, Monty 1, Monty 2, Monty 3, Monty 4, and Monty 5, which we had to have as pets because DS had asthma and we couldn't do feathers or fur and the box turtle turned psychotic and banged his head bloody trying to go North, and we had to release it in a blessing ceremony and sprinkle it with water and chant "You are Free to Go North!" and the lizard, named Lizard, fell on its back on the heat pad and couldn't get up and fried and dessicated by the time we found it, so we got Monty 1, who turned out to be anorexic and had to be fed with a feeding tube until it died, and Monty 2 was big and mean and nasty and got traded in for Monty 3, who was just right until he crawled away in July, and so we got Monty 4, and then Monty 3 came crawling back out of my bookroom again on SuperBowl Sunday, so then we had both Monty 3 and Monty 4 at the same time, and a lot more mice in the basement than while Monty 3 was free, and then somehow we had neither of them, but Monty 5 instead, but I don't remember the details of that because ....)
Ahh, I digress.
Old Sheepie Blankie was the 5th member of the househol. Meredith acquired her at age 2 and she stayed with us until age 4. The Old Sheepie Era came to an end when we were at Disney; the San Angel Inn to be exact; the first table for 4 nearest the river and the entrance to the boat ride to be even more exact. Old Sheepie was with us when we went in. Old Sheepie was not with us when we came out; a fact we did not realize until we were standing in front of the Figment ride.
Since I am the second most assertive member of the family (DD is first Queen; I am second Queen) I went jogging back in dripping heat; (it was August) to the pyramid to get Old Sheepie. Probably 20 minutes had elapsed since we departed, leaving Old Sheepie All Alone. In San Angel they no habla Old Sheepie. I took French in High School. I took a minute to curse myself for a) not taking Spanish;or b) not eating at France for lunch.
"Did you find a baby blanket? I mean a rag? Color beigy-brown-gray? Used to have Old Sheepies on it? Parlez-vous Francais? Non?? Can I look? I'm going to look anyhow. Do you know who cleaned this table?" Rats, I think to myself, using another word entirely, with a different meaning. They have no idea what I am talking about.
This is not the first time we lost something in the San Angel. In a previous visit we had left a camera there. We got out as far as the steps, and realized it was missing and went back. It was gone. There were a number of table busing type people on that occasion who looked a bit furtive and guilty, and the manager graciously sent us a check for $300, even though we didn't ask for that, since it was our own d*mn fault we left the camera. But he saw the same looks we did. But this time, when the words Old Sheepie Blankie floated across the crowded dining mesa, no one looked guilty. They just looked uncomprehending. Why would anyone carry around a frayed beige piece of rag? I did look around to see if she might be wiping tables. No luck.
Come on Santa, I prayed, just rapture me away right now. NOW would be a good time for the New Creation where lost blankies are no more. Please don't let me live all the way back across Epcot to where I have to go tell the 4 year old Queen of the Whole Universe that Old Sheepie, who used to be with us half an hour ago, has now crossed the Great River joining Orange Bunny in Blankie Paradise. Since the theology was as tangled as the family saga, this prayer, too, went to the dead prayer office.
Have you ever heard the howl of a 4 year old Queen of the Universe??? It echoes in your sleep. For years. Right then, we had to go file a missing Old Sheepie Blankie report at Lost and Found, which was the exact opposite direction of where I wanted to go, which was to admire Off Kilter and their, umm, legs. We had to describe her exactly (brownish beige gray rag which used to have old sheep on it) and check Lost and Found every single day. Twice. And call them when we got home.
Did you know that of all the paraphenia they sell in Disney and Orlando, Old Sheepies aren't one of them? OR blankies???We finally subbed in a cute Minnie/Mickey towel. It WASN'T the same. Mickey STOLE Old Sheepie.
Next came Chooch. Not Chooch blankie. Just Chooch. Chooch is so nomenclatured because there is a little picture of a locomotive in one of Cute Common Toy spaces. DH says its much better than calling it "Old Balls Blankie." Chooch was with us from age 5 (we floundered a bit between relationships)

The point of this pre-trip report is to inform you that this summer, DH, me, Bad Boy DS, Queen DD and Chooch (new) will be making the trip to Disney once again. Stay tuned. Don't tell Santa and don't tell Mickey.