Seeing Mimi here, I can perhaps see why thethought his fleece was as gray as snow. He gets washed quite regularly, but apparently there is a lot of Ryan love there that just can't be washed out.
Oh, and why is it that the Children's Museum of Houston thought his fleece was gray? Recently, we went for a visit with Granny and Auntie Cher-O. It was a lot of fun, and we all had a great time. Especially Mimi, who ended up at the museum with us somehow since its hard to pry him out of Ryan's hands.
Here is Mimi at the Museum before we went in, and some pictures of the kids having fun while inside the Museum. Mimi spent most of the Museum trip safely tucked away inside my purse.
But I had given him back to Ryan when we were getting ready to leave. And yet, somehow, we're almost home when I hear a quiet voice from the backseat ask, ever so politely, "Can I please have my Mimi now?'
Cue sheer terror in my heart. Auntie Cher-O begins a search in the car, to no avail. We pull over, search the car further, to no avail. Ryan begins to realize that his Mimi is not here, and is not replaceable, starts screaming "I want my Mimi! I need my Mimi! I love you, Mimi! HE WAS THE BEST MIMI EVER!!!" Granny suggests that perhaps its time for a new Mimi, and that we stop a Tuesday Morning. "I want my Mimi! I need my Mimi! I love you, Mimi! HE WAS THE BEST MIMI EVER!!!" I search the black hole known as my purse for a receipt from the museum, and the flyer, for a phone number. Find receipt. Find the brochure. Neither of which has a phone number. I try not to panic, I am the owner of the all-powerful iPhone. Call information who connects me, and gives me a recording saying push 1 for this and 2 for that and now 1 again, and then 7, and finally a recording that this number isn't staffed on weekends, so call this ten digit phone number instead. They kindly repeat the 10 digit phone number for me, but does this help me remember it over all the screaming and crying in the car? Um, no. Call back, press 1 then 2 then 8 then 5 then 0, get ten digit number again. Still CANNOT remember the number to save my life.
Drop Granny, Auntie and boys off with car seats just in case. Drive like madwoman through Houston trying to make it to the museum in time. Try calling Carl, who stayed home in Austin to work, so he can help me call the museum. Carl is not answering his phone. Am now really starting to panic. See traffic, because, you know, its HOUSTON, and decided to go on the toll road. Keep trying Carl, who FINALLY answers his phone, laughing and having a good time, as he is not working, and not waiting by the phone for my call. Still, Carl is able to call the number from information, press the five buttons and then actually write down the ten digit number, which he then dials and gets a live person. A live person who actually works at the Museum. On a Saturday. A live person who confirms that, yes, a stuffed lamb was turned in to Lost and Found just a few minutes prior. Hearing this news, my heart actually starts pumping again, although I still need to make it there by 6pm. Which I finally did, with only a few minutes to spare. I had to sign Mimi out of a log book, where he was listed as a "Grey-ish stuffed Lamb." The guard laughed about this, saying how some of the workers were having a chuckle over how Mimi looked pretty well-loved, and how there was probably a pretty upset child out there right now. I just glared back at him, failing to see the humor here. This was my pretty upset child, and I'm pretty certain I added at least thirty-seven new grey-ish hairs to my head that day. So no. Not funny.
And thus we come full circle to how blessed we are that Mimi is now taking his place amongst our Easter decorations. For at least until the morning when Ryan decides to take him somewhere else.