If you know us personally, which most of you do because there’s about 5 dozen people who read this on any given day, you are familiar with the family member we lovingly refer to as, “chi chi.”
Chi chi is Goo’s most beloved blanket. It started out as a soft, pale pink blanket with pink roses. It turned into a soft, greyish-brown blanket with holes and nail polish stains. Chi chi went everywhere – and I mean everywhere – with Goo. Chi chi has ventured into the woods, the toilet, the bath tub, and anywhere else Goo has ever been. Not having chi chi was like not having oxygen. And if you
made the lethal mistake of pissing off Goo ever did something Goo wasn’t super excited about, you hoped and prayed that chi chi was nearby to ease your Goo’s pain.
Getting chi chi into the washing machine required a distraction on the scale of a cirque du soleil production and the stealth of a ninja. Not only because Goo had to be separated from her mate for a significant stretch of time, but because she absolutely hated when chi chi came out of the dryer. I would pull it out, warm and toasty and no longer smelling like stale vomit and old nail polish, and she would pitch an absolute fit. “Chi chi is warm! It’s warm Mommy! Make it cold! I can’t like it! I can’t like it!”
Right. Because who wants a clean, warm blanket fresh out of the dryer? Silly me. This is partially why chi chi looked the way it did. The other part was that we were told that we needed to be replacing our water filter every 3 months. And when were we told this? Three YEARS after moving in. So every time I washed the laundry, or the dishes, or the kids, I was adding in a healthy dose of absolutely disgusting build up from the hard water. The filter, which is usually white, was dark, nasty brown and rust colored when we removed it. Awesome. I blame chi chi’s discoloration on Goo’s misadventures, and our gross water. Anyway.
The heartbreaking news is this: chi chi is gone. Forever. We can only hope that one day, Goo and chi chi will be reunited in that big blanket paradise in the sky.
It was a sad, sad day in our household. During the blackout (you know, when the northeast spent up to two weeks without power b/c our electrical grid is flawless), we took shelter in our local shopping mall. Because it had electricity, heat, and coffee. The essentials. Somewhere between the family restroom, the entire rest of the mall, and our car, chi chi made a break for it, and has never been heard from again. Explaining this to Goo was not so simple. We had a backup chi chi – rainbow chi chi. One she had never particularly taken to. Even now, several weeks after the passing of her dear friend and confidant, she still asks if we’ll find chi chi “next week.” Sigh. There’s just no replacing a baby blanket. Goo has accepted rainbow chi chi for now, but it’s just not the same.
Chi chi, we love you. We miss you. Rarely in our washing machine, but forever in our hearts.