Of Mice, Men and Fleece Blankets

So, we finally seem to be getting out of the “Lenny” stage of Little-C’s infatuation with Big-O.
She has loved him since before he was born, oh with such a great love it cannot be expressed in words. Picture if Steinbeck had written Of Mice and Men but instead of being a mentally handicapped adult armed with brute strength, Lenny was a two-year-old girl armed with fleece blankets and hundreds of stuffed animals. I would hear a muffled cry from the living room where I would find a quivering mound of fleece and cuddly animals. Beneath that mound would emanate the piteous wails of the infant boy, growing fainter by the minute. As I would release him from his fluffy torture chamber, Little-C would cling to my arm and beg me to leave him alone. “He LIKES IT! HE LIKES IT! He’s laughing. He’s SO happy.” How could a person be so tender and yet so hazardous? In these moments I would think of Lenny and the poor pretty bunnies and vow not to leave the two of them unattended….. ever. However recent evidence shows that she may be growing out of this stage and we rejoice. She still loves him, but not quite so hard.