George. Curious George.
Reed slept with him, ate with him, rode with him. Reed and George were tight.
When Reed started preschool, we thought George should stay home. And he did. He stayed on Reed’s bed eagerly awaiting his friend’s return. Reed would run to get the monkey the minute we’d walk in the house. And he’d carry him everywhere.
So why was I surprised at the preschool conference when Mora Tzippi asked me to tell her about Reed’s best friend?
We were new to town. Reed was a man of few words. Seriously, he barely spoke. So what friend did she mean?
Tzippi went on to tell me that Reed talked about his friend and all the things they do together. She told me in great detail. I must have looked very puzzled. And then she mentioned the friend’s name. George.
Well, maybe laughing out loud was not the most mature and maternal response. But it was hilarious! Reed, who didn’t talk except when extremely necessary, had his teacher convinced he had a friend named George who did all kinds of funny and fun things.
So when I told her that George was a stuffed monkey, she was not convinced. Seriously, she said, “No, I mean George. Reed’s friend.”
So tonight when I was cleaning out his drawers in preparation for packing him for 2 weeks of overnight camp, I was lulled into a memory of my quiet and adorable 2 year old who loved his stuffed monkey. And flash to him leaving home for 2 whole weeks.
Think I should pack George in Reed’s duffel?