Years ago, it was just an ordinary cush pillow I bought at Walmart but ever since MatMat discovered its soft, cool snuggly-ness, Papa gave it a name, and MatMat drew it a face,-- - “it” became a HE, and from then on became a member of the family, beloved of MatMat, and his own “Blue Baby”. He goes where MatMat goes—to the bathroom for number one and two, at breakfast, lunch and dinner, bedtime, TV time, snuggle time, computer time, snack time, piano and guitar time, telethon time, bath time, study time, play time. At night, he listens along with MatMat to our bedtime story, occasionally prays, and in the middle of the night, when MatMat awakens from a nightmare, he would grab him running, blankets trailing, on the way to Mama and Papa’s room.
Blue Baby partakes of the food on MatMat’s table, as told by the milk, pancake syrup, orange juice, and ketchup stains on his blue exterior, and the oil stains, as well, from the popcorn and the peanuts, the cookies and the chips. He knows how to do the “snake”, and the duck walk with his bottom swinging from side to side, is a champ at wrestling, and can talk.
Yes, Blue Baby has a birthday, too. For Blue Baby’s birthday (his fourth), I sewed him two nice pillow cases, one of which has a pocket to hold MatMat's other best friend—the TV remote. The accomplishment of sewing the pillow cases was a feat accompli worthy of another story.
Blue Baby, the truth be told, is no longer blue, but a rather faded grayish purple from many washings, and had survived an unfortunate nip from our then puppy, DJ. He used to be 3 feet tall but through the years had shrunk, quite sadly, to a feet and a half. My attempt to give him a more presentable appearance did not quite agree with MatMat. I was told it covered his nice, cool comfiness, and so, back it was to the fadedness, stains and acquired loveliness.
Blue Baby is covered all over with MatMat’s drool and DNA, which probably accounts for why he takes so much comfort with its smell and feel. All of us who had some kind of security blanket when we were little could appreciate the soothing reassurance of an object both cherished and familiar.
MatMat talks to Blue Baby with a special, gentle, baby-talk tone, treats him very gingerly, and for reasons I have yet to figure out, gets from MatMat more warmth and affection than we his own living family members get from him.
And pardon me, we must never treat Blue Baby like an “it” for fear of offending the boy. In the same fashion, being a baby and quite “sensitive”, we strive not to hurt Blue Baby’s feelings. We acknowledge his presence, touch him gently and with care, being careful not to drop him on the floor, and being particular to talk to his face, not to his butt. And, we must never leave him alone in the dark, upstairs or downstairs. He gets a careful fluffing on the couch and a goodbye kiss from MatMat on his way out of the house, and is first to be hugged and kissed on his way in.
There has never been a pillow so blessed to be loved by a boy---- object of countless of his adoring kisses and precious hugs.
I worry for the day when Blue Baby will come to pieces, beyond repair, a prospect that will probably break the boy’s heart.
In turn, that day will come when Blue Baby he will set aside, and perhaps, forever, lose the lavish attention and fervent love of the boy.
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