Long Live the Blankie

I shouldn't be jealous of my 16-month-old boy, but I am.

It's not his flawless skin or the hair that's already thicker than mine. No, what he really has going for him is his blankie.

Roughly a meter by a meter, it has dirt marks, milk stains and suggestions of misguided toilet efforts.

To my son, it's pure heaven. Whack your head on the cot? Grab blankie. Don't like dinner? Walk off with your blankie.

When he really needs a strong, soothing hit, he pushes his face deep into the fibers and lets out an audible... Dahhh.

The other morning, I told him Dahhh needed a wash.

I thought I'd tipped a massive meltdown, but instead, he calmly went into the laundry and stood guard, his eyes fixated on the washing machine;

There's dahhh! For the entire 30-minute cycle he followed every revolution.

If you are starting to think we are too reliant on this thing, you are not even close.

A few weeks ago, Dahhh was left at childcare.

Like many blokes, I'm scared of my wife, and I wasn't about to admit stuffing up. So I said I'd 'deliberately' left Dahhh behind, to see how he'd cope.

Early on, things looked promising. Maybe a bit of tough love was the answer. Our son's grandparents (The anti-Dahhh lobbyists) were forever telling us;

Just throw the thing away!

Then the crying started. The sort of crying that breaks a parent's will.

Time for plan B. First, we found him a blanket that was the exact same weave.

This was successful on one level -- it caused him to cry even louder.

Next we tried flannels, then blankets.. .washed and unwashed. All rejected. At 10:00 p.m. we made the decision to call the head of childcare.

Hi Maxine, ummm, do you mind hopping in your car and opening up your child care center???

To her credit, she didn't protest. It was obvious she had presided over generations of child-blanket relationships.

A difficult night, but an important lesson. Never again will I listen to anti-blankie bullies.

He loves his Dahhh. And who am I to deny him such a simple and effective pleasure. I'm now even considering cutting off some pieces as a kind of insurance policy.

Yes, we've come full circle. My wife even commented the other day, 'Wouldn't it be great if adults had Dahhs?'

Cancer sticks would be history.

Stressed? Just take a few deep gasps of your Dahhh.

Got a fear of flying? Take your Dahhh with you.

Depression? Beyond Blue could have their own line of Dahhhs.

First date? Job interview nerves? All cured with a Dahhh.

Think I'm crazy? Next time you are feeling frazzled, grab the nearest blankie and inhale deeply.

Dahhh.