Preparedness

This morning, Small Fry was bemoaning the loss of her big-eyed piggy (it's part of the Ty Beanie Boos collection). I knew I'd seen it on the floor of her room within the last week, so I thought I'd go find it and bring it to her. Bonus Mommy points, you know.

The piggy wasn't by the dresser, where I'd seen it last, so I knelt to hunt under her loft bed.

This is No Man's Land, a catchall for anything and everything she wants to keep and/or hide.

It's a scary place.

Now, it's important to point out here that Small Fry got hooked on piggies awhile back, but not quite as deeply as Medium is hooked on duckies (and they have to be yellow). And, in the last week or so, Medium has gathered her vast and varied duck collection (20 at last count, not including the four Duckie backups in my dresser) and has been sleeping with them all at night. Small did the same last night with her significantly smaller piggy collection, and complained that it "wasn't fair" that she didn't have as many piggies as Medium had duckies. I made a mental note to add more to her Christmas presents this year.

Innyhoo, I saw her piggy pile on the bed when I went to look for her Beanie Boo piggy, and realized she was missing the floppy pig we'd gotten her for her second birthday. That had to be under the bed, too...might as well track it down. Two pigs with one search.

I found the Beanie Boo piggy without much effort, but the big one was still hiding, so I dove into the pile of large stuffed animals.

That's when I found the plastic grocery bag.

It was full of clothes and nighttime Pull-ups.

So I took it and the piggy downstairs. "Is this the one you were looking for?"

"My big-eyed pig!" she squealed.

"Care to explain this?" I held out the bag.

"It was for when I was gonna go somewhere else," she muttered.

"So you packed that bag so you could run away?" Hubby asked.

Small nodded almost imperceptibly.

"That's a yes?" Hubby asked at the same time I admonished her to use words.

"Yes," Small admitted grudgingly.

I nodded and took the bag upstairs without further comment. It's not the first time she's said she wanted to run away (although it is the first time she's packed a bag), and it won't be the last.

As I unpacked it, I was entertained by what she'd chosen to take with her: her tankini swimsuit, a swimsuit skirt coverup, three undershirts, three summer nightgowns, four pairs of socks, and one long-sleeved shirt. No undies. No pants.

She's more prepared than Hubby was when he packed up to run away when he was a little boy...he grabbed four pairs of underwear and filled the rest of his suitcase with stuffed animals.