If you’ve ever had small children you know that approximately a quarter of your existence is spent looking for stuff.  Some of it is insignificant, but some of it is serious business.  Amelia has her blankie that our friend Amy Evans made for her at birth (see the “Meet Wiggle” post).  Three years later, it still goes everywhere with her.  Olivia has Bunny – a six year-old stuffed animal that was once pink but is now an indiscriminate color somewhere between pink and gray.  There is no stuffing left in it and smells like morning breath mixed with sweat.

Disgusting as it may sound, Bunny is Olivia’s most beloved possession.  She’s grown out of taking him with us everywhere, but she still takes Bunny to bed every night… except last night.  Bedtime rolled around and Bunny was nowhere to be found.  Sara searched while I brushed Olivia’s teeth and got her ready for bed.  I searched while Sara read Olivia her bedtime story.  Sara searched again while I tucked Olivia in and we said her prayers.  No luck.

We turned the house upside down and retraced our steps from the entire day.  Finally, we decided to break the news to Olivia – she was going to have to go to bed without Bunny.  She took it surprisingly well.  I continued searching because I can’t stand to have an unresolved problem hanging over my head. 

After an hour of searching, I finally found it.  It was in the guest room closet… behind the door… in the bottom of a sleeping bag… that was zipped and rolled up.  It had to be divine intervention that led me to Bunny.  I was just happy to finally stop looking for that stupid Bunny.

After I found it, I took it to Olivia’s room.  She was in bed, but still awake.  Here was our exchange:

Me:  “I found Bunny.”

Olivia:  “Where was he?”

Me:  “Rolled up inside a sleeping bag in the guest bedroom closet!”

Olivia: “Why didn’t you look there first?”

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