I'm not ashamed to admit that my almost four-year old daughter just gave up her pacifier.
I'm sure there will be plenty of parents (a.k.a, the Binkie Police) out there rolling their eyes at the thought of my preschooler walking around like Maggie Simpson. But try living with my kid first.
Our fiercely independent, utterly intense, charismatic firecracker of a kid needed something to ...how shall I say this ...calm her the fuck down. And they don't call them pacifiers for nothing, right?
Her collection of little plastic doohickeys became her most prized possession. Even after we cut big holes in the tips to remove the suction and salvage her perfect baby teeth, her love for her binkies never waned.
That's why yesterday's big event was so bittersweet. This one is our baby. She is our last. So when she readily relinquished her most beloved treasures to the "Paci Fairy" in exchange for a trip to the toy store and a double-scoop ice-cream cone, I must admit I kept half hoping she would change her mind.
And for a moment it looked like my daughter might not go through with the swap, as you can see for yourself in the video.
Who says the US Postal Service is good for nothing?
You can tell by Orly's reaction how proud we are of The Peach. But I'm also proud of us for not jumping face first into that mailbox and trying to grab her childhood back.
From a little Ziploc bag. With two stamps. Some scribbled words in Sharpie. And no return address.
(P.S. I promise to hold the camera horizontally next time.)