It’s not what you think. Honest.
It’s really a security blanket. We all have one of some kind, whether it shows or not. His is just
Oh, I know what you’re thinking…I thought it too. It all started when I was still working. I was the office manager for my brother’s machine shop. I was able to take him to work with me every day – he had a playpen in the corner of the office and he had free reign to go where ever he wished within the confines of the front of the building. He saw his daddy every day for lunch and would sometimes cry for long periods after he left to go back to work.
My husband was beside himself because he felt so badly about leaving AJ and considered not even coming to visit at lunch anymore because of the conflict it was causing. That’s when he came up the “THE PLAN”.
Now, keep in mind, our oldest daughter, Katie was not allowed to keep her “silky” blanket past the age of four…my husband thought it was ridiculous to have her walking about in public fingering the silk pajama top I had given her as a means of pacifying her. And, all in all, I agree with him. The stares we sometimes attracted when people realized what it was prompted me to cut the straps off and sew it into a square so it wouldn’t be so obvious.
Floy’s “PLAN” was to give our 9 month old son an old pair of khaki pants that he didn’t wear anymore. It wasn’t a silk blankie, he reasoned with himself. It was “cool”…”manly”…not a pacifier by any means. My husband referred to them as “daddy’s britches” and AJ took to them like a duck to water. They instantly became a part of him…he had to have them whenever we left the house…he cried for hours if we forgot them.
We learned not to forget them.
At church, the ladies keeping nursery couldn’t understand what he was asking for and would tell me my son was “cussin’ again”. I’d explain for the ten thousandth time that he was really asking for his “daddy britch” and not calling them a choice word. I don’t think they believed me.
He couldn’t live without them. At bedtime, he’d ask, “where’s my daddy britch?”
See the picture? AJ is three and still going strong with what he still calls his “daddy britch”…he’s soon to be four. They are a little more worse for the wear…the bottom halves of the legs are gone now (I cut them off because they were ratty anyway) and they are starting to rip in odd places… but they are still his favorite.
He loves them like the little boy in the “Velveteen Rabbit” story. He worries about them when they are not near. He asks about them often when we are away from home if he doesn’t have them.
They are his and he
I love him and this time I don’t think we are going to be in such a rush to make one of our children give up their blankie. Oh, I know it’s probably not PC to allow him to hold on to the things…and I can just hear my mom and others clucking their tongues right now.
But this is my reason. He’s doesn’t know Jesus personally yet. He’s still terrified of the dark…of things that go
in the night.
Why am I going to take away the only thing that (besides my husband and I) makes him feel secure? I know in time, he’ll learn that Jesus is the only One who can keep him safe and the “daddy britch” will be a thing of the past. While I look forward to the day he gets saved, I will always look back and see my sweet, precious boy holding his “daddy britch”.