2006-09-12 - 10:34 p.m.

T IS FOR TRAUMA

Today, my little one produced a small brown lunch sack from her fashionable six dollar Disney princess book bag. It was festively adorned with capital and lower case letter t's, and tomorrow she is to return to school with something of her own that begins with that letter. Oh, the struggle to find just the right thing.

The stuffed tiger wasn't good enough, and the Cinderella telephone wouldn't make a good nap partner. The rubber foot (toes) just didn't hit the spot, and the teddy bears were boring. The bubba teeth weren't even a contender. The turtle is a tubtoy and I'm completely mad for having dared to suggest it. "Toy" is too general, tape is unimpressive, a Tic Tac is too small and a Tootsie Roll wouldn't make it off the bus even if I'd had one, which I don't.

We upended both toy boxes looking for "the thing", then moved to the junk drawer, onto domestics and items not belonging to Libby, finally circling back to the toy boxes where we faced off. I was tired, so tired, of the hassle and wanted to JUST USE THE TIGER ALREADY, while Libby stubbornly insisted we continue searching for the holy grail. Finding "the thing" had gone rapidly from challenge to chore. I had to do something to stop the madness. EUREKA!!! AN ULTIMATUM!

I gathered the necessary items: Brown Play-Doh. Check. Tiger doll. Check. Choose, kid.

Tiger wins, hands down!

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