Tuddle

When WB was born, a good friend of mine gave him a stuffed lion and to SK, a stuffed turtle. He quickly named it "DANGEROUS TURTLE" and claimed that all turtles say, "Righteous! Righteous!"

(I'll bet that KiSA's sister and her husband will remember Dangerous Turtle, because we once had a near disaster when we left him at their house.)

As toys often do after a time, they settled to the bottom of the pile for several months. That is, until SK saw The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe at Christmas. Upon our return, he rediscovered the lion, christened it "Baby Aslan," and has bonded increasingly with it until the point now, where he will hardly part with it. (Two days ago, I put Aslan and some other animals in time out for 24 hours as a consequence of SK's misbehavior. That was a SAAAAD bedtime.)

About two weeks ago, WB decided to instantly fall in love with the turtle. He simply spotted it across the room, said, "Tuddle!" and resolved that it was his new very best good friend. He won't nurse or go to sleep without it, carries it to the car with him, and pretty much always drags it around by its foot. He's had to readjust the lovey, and now carries it in the same hand that has a thumb plunged in his mouth. The funny thing is, this is no small stuffed animal. It covers almost all of his torso. It has to be difficult to maneuver, but he doesn't seem to mind.