Pink Bear

Everyone has a favorite. For M it is "Pink Bear." That is her (or his, depending on the day) official name. It's been the friend she has carried everywhere since she was old enough to have a good grip. I'm grateful pink bear is tiny, as she has definitely been around the block a few times. She is also, of course, M's best bedtime friend. In fact, many a trip to M's room in the middle of the night are to answer frightened desperate cries that turn out to be "I can't find Pink Bear."

I have overheard, at times, Pink Bear misbehave and get scolded and punished in a strikingly similar way to my discipline measures for M. When it's thunder storming, Pink Bear is scared (even though M is not). Pink Bear doesn't like no dessert in Lent. After she got her flu shot, M told Daddy that Pink Bear cried even though I seem to remember tears falling from my little girl's face. M puts Pink Bear to bed with the same stories that I read her, and not surprisingly Pink Bear always asks for one more story, and M always tells him that it's already past his bedtime, and maybe tomorrow. (sounds rather familiar).

Pink Bear is also vividly alive in M's imagination. I have been told:
When Pink Bear was a baby, he didn't like squash.
One time, pink bear flew in a hot air balloon.
When Pink Bear was little, one time he went to heaven, he had angel wings.
...among others.

M cracked me up today before her nap when she decided to read her bedtime stories herself. Following our example she read me the title and author:
"Sweet Dreams" by PinkBear.com

I couldn't resist having a few of her 3-year pictures with Pink Bear.