One of these incidents had to do with a lost bink’. What’s a bink’, you ask? Well, the formal name is … binkie. You know, the pacifier that, really, four-year-old little boys should no longer have. But you also know how that goes… (I remember my little brother Billy being coaxed from his “bink” as we traveled through New Mexico with the promise that his bink would grow into a cactus. I’m not sure the promise worked…but that’s another story).
Anyway, one Tuesday (our regular day together), Evan and little brother Carter were starting to snuggle down into the “campsite/nap area” on the floor on our lower level. All of a sudden, the heart-stopping realization came upon us…NO BINKIE! It had been several weeks since he had been here with it…maybe he took it home last time…maybe Mommy & Daddy decided to sneakily put an end to it all, I thought. Well, maybe now’s the time to end this wonderful tradition (binkies for nap-time at grandmas' houses only). I began in earnest to prepare Evan for the inevitable.
Evan had other ideas: “I NEED my BINKIE to REST!” My heart went out to him…I looked and looked. Really, I did! In the usual places and unusual places.
Again, making eloquent attempts to prepare him for the worst, I did what any desperate grandmother would do….I prayed! “Lord, if you want Evan to have his binkie, please let it be here and let it come to light!”
