Emotional Attachment

Since Anna's been rather messily sick this week, we gave her this blue barf bag to keep nearby in case the mood should strike again. In a bizarre twist, she has become COMPLETELY dependant on the bag. She's been walking around with it, like in the picture, held to her face at all times. Every time I've tried to get her to set it down, you know, to maybe take a drink or something, she has hysterics and NEEDS HER BARF BAG BACK RIGHT THIS MINUTE OR ALL HELL WILL BREAK LOOSE.

Last night I spent many long hours gently pulling the suffocation device away from her face as she cradled it in her sleep. Tonight, Kurt thought he'd solved the problem by simply snipping off the bottom of the bag. Sure, it wouldn't really serve its mess-prevention purpose, but it made her feel better to have it and now she could breathe at night, too. Perfect, right? No.

DADDY BROKE HER BAG. She finally calmed herself down by fiercely clutching the cut portion closed in her hand, while at the same time still holding the ring firmly to her face. She hasn't actually thrown up in almost a whole day now, but I'm not sure we'll ever get the bag away from her. It's a shame, really. She has such a nice smile, I'll miss seeing it.