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The Binky String

Who knows what it’s called really, along with who cares, but in a pinch, like right now, it’s called the binky string.  Also known as the thing that couldn’t be found last night and the thing I’d’ve slipped somebody a twenty for and garbled, “keep da change.” Three doses of look-for-binky fun in the same night will do that to a person.  Uh…easily.

The string’s about yay long and half an inch wide and has a crummy clip thingy that neither works right nor saves time.  It takes four tries to pin on the front of the kid whose pajama top becomes twice the size it started at.  But take away other variables, like a kid barfing in bed or claiming he didn’t eat dinner or not being able to breathe out of his left nostril, and the blessed binky string is all about uninterrupted sleep.  For the kid. 

So, excerpted here from the Binky String 101 manual, it all works like this: Binky in mouth; binky string on pjs.  All very tidy. One fifteen a.m. binky out of mouth, but not hopelessly lost.  Likely under the armpit. Two forty-eight a.m. a practiced right hand gropes binky back into mouth.  Child’s eyes never open.  And parent never enters room to flick on the light and tear the bed apart looking for a binky that has shrunk to the size of a raisin and can’t be found. 

I tell you, unless you’re my own mother who could rig a binky string out of a spare shoelace and a safety pin–because she has both in a jar for just such an event–worthily invest in a binky string.  Best $2.79 you may ever spend.


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