Tuesday, December 20, 2011


Woobies make everything better.

My darling little granddaughter, Juliet, has a woobie. Soft and satiny, it looks like a rabbit—ears and everything—that morphs into a miniature blanket. She can’t sleep without it. It’s her best friend. She lies down without a fight as long as Woobie is in her arms. Sweet comfort in pink velvet, her mom or dad pick her up, hand her the rabbit, and she clutches it to her chest with one hand, simultaneously puts her middle two fingers from the other hand in her mouth, and then cuddles into the curve of her parent’s shoulder. Snuggles and Woobie. Together they make everything right with her little world.

He usually waits for her in the crib. He hardly ever goes missing that way. Juliet’s mommy got a back-up in case of an emergency, but Jules wasn’t born yesterday. She knows her best friend from the “fake woobie”, and won’t be conned by an imposter. The only way her parents can sort of fool her, if necessity or desperation arise, is if her room is totally dark before they try to bring in the understudy. She’s got to be pretty tired, even for that. And chances are the stand in will still be tossed out.

Last fall, Juliet went on her first plane ride and, of course, Woobs did, too. By the end of the trip, the floppy eared guy with a rattle in his head became more important to Jules’ mommy than her ticket and ID. Now she and Juliet’s daddy joke that Woobs is the most valuable possession they own. But after sixteen months as the star in Juliet’s firmament, he’s getting a bit tattered from being dragged all over the place. So what will Juliet’s mommy do when, eventually, Woobs comes undone? “I’ll patch him up as best I can, I guess,” she told me. Of course. When it comes to woobies, there are no substitutes, no stunt doubles. He’s irreplaceable and priceless.

Now that our little angel is up and walking, bumps and bruises are more common. But as long as Woobs is around, there’ll be no broken hearts. After one recent misstep that left Miss Juliet fallen on her pride, her daddy picked her up in his strong arms, handed Woobie to his weeping daughter, and watched the tears dissipate. “Woobies make everything better,” he told me.

I smiled. "Yes, they do," I answered. Then I sighed. I wish I had a woobie.


  1. Me, too. I need a woobie. Do you think they make them for girls of our age?

  2. I hope so. I'm gonna ask Santa for one for Christmas. I'll put in a good word for you, too!

  3. :-) awww....when I was little I had my Susie doll. She had a plastic face but the rest of her was cuddly like a teddy bear. She could comfort me when nothing else could. I had a string of them, because they would get all tattered and torn.

    When my boys came along they never attached much to objects but they had their nap blankets. I bought them in pairs so they were indistinguishable (so I could wash them when necessary). LOL funny thing: my sons are now in their 20's and I still have all four blankets...

  4. Lovely story Eula. Gabbi has a treasured plush pet that she has had since she was tiny. That little guy is in the family pictures, has seen more places than a lot of people I know, and still sleeps on her pillow each night.

    Once, when he lost his left eye, I thought she might choose a replacement. Not so. When I asked her about it she said "Oh mommy, he doesn't need his eyes to see, he sees with his heart." He is still treasured.

    As a matter of fact, when we had our little fire this morning and the thoughts were racing through my mind of what to grab if the fire should spread to the house ... you got it, this little treasure was on the list!

  5. Oh, Wendy, I know what you mean. I bet the smell of those blankets even brings back the memories of your sons. What a sweet picture!

  6. Wow, Marie, what a beautiful thing your Gabbi said! So profound! I'm so glad the fire was put out - and that your little girl's woobie was safe!