Venomous Family Emergency (Resolved!)
My Big-Eyed Boy’s beloved “Bear Bear” is missing. He was last indisputably seen in Willmar, Minnesota two days ago. Since then, his whereabouts are unknown.
Bear Bear has been a member of our family since December 1999 — four months before my son’s birth — when I found him while shopping for maternity clothes. After an inadvertent two-year separation when our family moved to Hawaii (during which Bear Bear remained at a friend’s house), both Bear Bear and my son have been virtually inseparable… particularly at night.
If you’ve seen this bear (or a reasonable facsimile available for purchase), please contact me asap. My sanity depends on it.
***UPDATE***: Given the irony that ruled our Vacation from Hell, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at this afternoon’s turn of events. I spent nine (9) — count ‘em, NINE! — hours online searching through toy stores, teddy bear sites, Amazon and Yahoo! shopping, I finally(!) found Bear Bear’s twin available on eBay. And even though it’s now considered “rare” because they’re no longer being manufactured.
So, just as I’m patting myself on the back for being diligent and successful, the phone rings: it’s the restaurant where we ate prior to leaving Willmar, MN en route home. Our waitress discovered Bear Bear after we left and remembered one of us mentioning our hometown. So she called everyone in the book with our last name, found a co-worker of my husband’s who happens to share our name, got our address and phone number from him (he’s a father who fully understands the importance of a child’s lovey) and wanted to let us know that the USPS is bringing Bear Bear home next week.
This, of course, means that I’ll actually have a spare Bear Bear… you know, just in case we take another Road Trip from Hell sometime in the next 10 years.
*never tease someone who is dieting* *never tease someone who is dieting* *never tease...
I hope you’re sending that waitress a hell of a nice “tip”. She went WAY above and beyond the call of duty. In fact, she belongs in the waitress hall of fame.
Oh, my! I have to tell you the story of “NOT Baby.” See, my son had this inexpensive Wal-Mart stuffed monkey that he’d picked up on our way to the checkout. I get to the check-out – and he’s calling it Baby – and I can’t say no to my 18 mo old (it was like $3.88, so…) Fast forward a few months when we have a “scare”. He almost threw up on Baby. Parent panic. We start combing every Wal-Mart and encouraging our friends and family to do so, too. We even wrote to Wal-Mart corporate who sent their condolences. This line of stuffed animals isn’t ordered by type specifically. There’s no way they can track down one at any particular place – oh, and they aren’t ordering any more.
FINALLY! One of our friends finds one. We secret it away, relieved. A few weeks later – an accident occurs – and while the little one is distracted, awaiting new sheets – I replace Baby with the Backup Baby. Phillip – just about 2 yo at this point – goes over to get his blankie and Baby before climbing back into bed. He stops – looks at Baby – holds him up to his face for a second and then hands it back! “Not Baby,” he says, looking worried. Dad and I are about to freak. I say, “Sure, it’s your monkey.” He shakes his head and stamps his foot. “NOT Baby!” The jig is up. We had to explain that this was Baby’s brother, Monkey, and since Baby needed a bath, he was there to take his place just for the night. And, yep, you guessed it. The next night there were two monkeys in his bed. *sigh* Sometimes, I guess, the backup backfires. 
I’m so happy to hear Bear Bear is on his way home.
Oh my. I can imagine just what you went through. I was kind of worried that the “not Bear Bear” would arrive before the real one and I just know the Big-Eyed Boy would be able to tell them apart. Luckily, the real Bear Bear came home first — the other I’ll safely tuck away in his baby toys for safekeeping. Years from now, when he’s a father himself, I’ll have to tell him of the trials and tribulations of Bear Bear.
And, Omni, I had the boy make a Thank You card that we sent along with a tip. You’re absolutely right about the waitress going above and beyond duty, and hers was just the sort of kindness that doesn’t get rewarded nearly often enough.