When Bunny Goes Missing

When Punk was born, we asked the nurse if she would eventually grow eyebrows. When at two months old she wasn't playing with her toys, we were concerned that she was developmentally delayed. First time parents are remarkably naiive. And the sad thing is that you're not aware of how naiive you were until you have a second child. Poor Poopalina. Our standards for ourselves as parents are so much lower these days. Or at least, we're not as anxiety-ridden when we we find Poopalina quietly gumming a half-eaten cracker Punk has left in her wake.

However, there is one thing that still causes our pulse to race and sweat to profusely pour from every gland in our body--when "Bunny" goes missing.

Eventually, Punk did begin playing with her toys and soon after her first birthday, she attached herself to a crocheted bunny that an acquaintance made for her shortly after her birth. Bunny is Punk's bestfriend. They play together. They eat together. They sleep together. They go to school together.

They are inseparable, except when Punk bores of Bunny's companionship and stuffs him in indiscreet hiding places--cabinets, under beds, her play oven, under a pile of books. Or drops him in the middle of Wal-Mart to grab something shiny off a nearby shelf.

When Bunny goes missing, Mr. Starlet and I panic.

And he did last week. Much to our horror, Bunny spent the night at school, stuffed inside the trunk of a ride-on firetruck. His absence was noted well after school was closed and while we maintain good relationships with her teachers, I couldn't bring myself to call them at 8:00 p.m. and demand Bunny's release.

There was a lot of crying. Punk cried, too. Especially at bedtime when we couldn't produce anything to remotely take the place of her faithful friend. We talked repeatedly about how Bunny was having a "sleep over" at school and that we'd go retrieve him first thing the next morning. Which we did. We were all a little worse for wear the next day, Bunny included.

I am already dreading the day that Punk decides to leave Bunny behind as she runs out the door to go to school. I think I'll have to call in sick that day and use Bunny to sop up my tears. As it is, he's already having to share 'travel companion' status with the likes of He-Man. Really, the guys with six-pack abs and a magical sword ruin everything.  

And that day is coming soon. She's started to occasionally call me "Mom," not "Mommy." While I could argue that it's because she's advanced well beyond her years (which she is, of course), it's probably just easier to spit out in rapid-fire. "Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Baby eating Bunny! BUUUUNNNNNNYYYY!"