Wednesday, February 13, 2008

R.I.P. Flutterbug

We've all seen this moment coming for a long time now. But now it's a reality: Flutterbug is no more. Since the day I came home from the hospital, Flutterbug—who as many of you know was the mobile that Mom and Dad clipped on to my changing table—has been a daily presence in my life. He saw me through thousands of diaper changes and hundreds of clothing changes. He was there at my happiest, my saddest and my stinkiest. And through it all, his music and his rotating, colorful wings kept me entertained and distracted while Mom, Dad, Babcia and Dido changed my diaper and my outfit.

But we've been living on borrowed time for months now. Flutterbug's life expectancy was only four months, or whenever I started grabbing at him. But I showed surprising restraint, and as the months passed, I continued to enjoy Flutterbug's presence in my life. However, this past month I was no longer able to resist the urge to pull on his colorful ribbons, even though Mom and Dad warned me this meant they would soon have to take him away. So tug away I did, and then tragedy struck on Saturday, when I tore off one of his wings. It was designed to snap right back on, so he's in one piece again, but we all knew the moment had come to say farewell.

Dad let me say my final goodbye (I, of course, got in one last good tug, as you can see above), and now he's gone for good. The changing table seems empty, but to Mom and Dad's amazement, I hardly have noticed he's gone.

R.I.P. Flutterbug, you were a good friend, my first-ever favorite toy, and served me—and my parents—well.