My husband slept with a blanky until he was in middle school. I still sleep with my blanky, which is at this point a blanket only nominally. I also had a “silky”, a bit of my grandmother’s slip that I loved to rub on my face. So when Nathaniel skipped blithely over the milestone months when he might have chosen a special lovey, I was a little blue.
Then, Sebastian came along. And around about his 2nd birthday, we upgraded from our queen-sized bed to a king-sized bed, to accommodate his desire to crawl into bed, lie sideways, and kick us in the ribs. Of course, this meant all new bedding, and so we pulled off the comforter, and the sheets, and the pillowcases, and stacked them in the hall to take up to the attic when we were ready to brave its draftiness.
That’s when Sebastian discovered pillowcases. We walked into his room to discover him wearing a sham pillowcase on his head. And then he’d toddle down to the kitchen, trailing the pillowcase behind him. Soon, at bedtime, he’d cry and scream, “Where’s my DACE!!! Where’s my DACE!!!” Finally, we realized his dace was his pillowcase, and we made sure that green sham pillowcase was never far from sight.
Soon after that, he discovered he could pull the pillowcase off his pillow, and “blue dace” and “animal dace” were added to the mix of needs for sleep any given night. And Thursday night we woke up tangled in his bedsheet, which he’d pulled off overnight and carried into our bed with him, and green dace, and blue dace, and animal dace.
This morning, Sebastian woke up later than the rest of us, in his own bed (a minor miracle). Just as I wondered where he was, he toddled out into the hall, arms stretched to their limits with blankets, sheets, and pillowcases. “There’s Sebastian,” my husband laughed. “With all his fabric.” Our little love, wrapped up in loveys.