Blankie, my beloved

From this:



and this:




to these:




...our blankies have been our pals for life.


But that's not what this post is all about. This post is about what happens when it all goes wrong; when the relationship hits an inevitable rocky patch; when mum washes a blankie.

(Mum wants it known there are two blankies each, so when one needs a wash, the other is always out for us to grab. We want it known that two blankies is just a formality. Blankie is blankie, as far as we are concerned our two-each-blankies are one and if one needs our help we are there.)


So when A discovered her blankie hanging from the line the other day, she did what any devotee would do: she grabbed a chair, and she attempted a rescue.










Mum stopped spying out the window at this point and came to my rescue. And before long, all was right with the world again.