I'd take a better picture of him, but this is as close as I can get to him these days. Ducky is a finger puppet that came in Giada's Easter Basket. For a month or so, Giada thought nothing of the little dude. Then my mom, aka "nonna" came to visit us and would play with it. That's all it took for Giada to become enamored of the little thing.
Problem is (and don't get me wrong with, we've already been through this with Mr. Bear, who has since fallen out of favor), we don't have a replacement for Ducky (yet... I swear I'm working on it), which didn't stop my daughter from becoming obsessed with Ducky.
Ducky has to come with Giada everywhere. She tried to take it to daycare, which I nixed because it might get lost (she's finally getting the idea after one of her books got lost for a week). She takes it with her around the house. But more importantly, Ducky has to come to bed with her, or she'll scream bloody murder until she gets it. God forbid she wakes up in the middle of the night (it still happens about 3-4 nights a week, actually) and Ducky has fallen off her fingers. I wake up to pitiful screams of "Lost! Duuuuuuckyyyy! Looooost! Mommy help!". Granted, sometimes my husband sees me pull the covers over my head and takes pity on me and goes to help her with Ducky instead.
But this weekend, Chris had to make an unexpected trip out of town, and I was left flying solo, with a kid who promptly got sick the very day her dad left (her record is 2 for 2). She's already not the most patient of toddlers when she's in perfect health. When she's sick, she basically will let you know by making you miserable also (granted, she got that from me, so I can't really get too mad about it). So it is that I've had to fetch Ducky about 3-4 times a night, only for Giada to decide she wasn't going to take the chance of having to wait for a retrieval, which meant screaming to be let in my bed for the night.
You know the whole "sleep when they sleep" advice they give you when you bring home a newborn? That was me this weekend, when I didn't have to fetch the damned duck puppet.
The obsession with yellow things is bigger than Ducky, though. Right now the daughter is sleeping in her bed with yellow sheets, in a yellow pajama, clutching Ducky and two yellow blankets that have to be draped over her slightly unacceptable purple comforter (you know, from when I used to call the shots around here).
When my mom used to say "I hope you have a daughter someday so you'll know what it's like to raise someone like you". So, even though the proper day for this sort of thing was yesterday, here goes anyway, sort of belated...
I'm sorry about all the times you had to put up with my insistence that everything I owned had to be yellow, and that I was such a brat about it. I'm sure you were relieved to have me grow out of it, only to break your heart all over again by wearing nothing but black as a teenager. I promise I've mended my ways and wear the occasional red, purple and blue. Did I mention lately that I love you? No? My bad.
The world's second most stubborn daughter ever
(Because I have a feeling my daughter will gladly take the title away from me eventually)