The Didi

            When it came time for her nightly bath-time ritual, I put her little tub into the big one and turned on the water. “Bath time! Let’s get undressed.”

            Celia obediently stood next to me, clutching her blanket. “Let’s put your blanket over here.” I gently pried the blanket from her fingers.

            “Didi!” Celia screamed.

            Yes, her blanket has a name. The funny thing is, it’s the name for two different blankets. One is large enough to cover her, and bright green. The other is a small little pink square. Both have the exact same texture, a soft fleecy material overall, with smooth sections.

            I can’t remember when she started calling them “Didi.” It’s been at least a couple months. She also says “Didi” when she wants to watch Dora the Explorer. I think it’s because the theme song says, “D-d-d-d-d-Dora! D-d-d-d-d-Dora!”

            She loves those blankets. When she goes to sleep she always asks for them, and snuggles her face into them before lying down. She also walks around the house with them at times. That was the case Monday. She went all the way through the day and into bath-time holding her big, green blanket.

            “Didi!” Celia screamed again.

            “Okay, okay, here it is.” I handed the blanket back to her. But at this point, something inside had snapped. Celia began wailing, now clutching her Didi protectively to her face. Michelle came in and tried to placate her, to no avail.

            For the first time, Celia skipped a bath because she couldn’t part with her blanket.

            In the end, we just let her go straight to bed without most of her usual rituals – the bath, the books and prayer. She continued to get herself worked up to the point where Michelle and I looked at each other with shrugged shoulders and said, “Just put her to bed.”

            Once she was put into her crib she finally calmed down. I have a feeling there was more going on there than a blanket. But maybe not. Hopefully, I’ve learned my lesson, and I’ll be able to do it more slyly. Like yesterday. She walked into bath-time holding her little pink Didi, and I said, “Let’s take off your clothes.” Only this time, I didn’t touch her blanket. When I started pulling off her shirt, she instinctively let go. And before I fully removed the shirt from blocking her eyes, I snatched the Didi and tossed it out of sight.

            When the shirt came off, she looked around, but before she could say the words, “Didi,” I said, “Look. Your bath is ready. Let’s get in!”

            The distraction worked. She obediently allowed herself to be put into the tub, and we had a good night after all. Whew. Who knew blankets could be so complex?