…And I Would Do It All Again

“Happy As Larry” – commonly referred to as Larry, is a mischievous reindeer who came into our lives while Thing One was just a baby.

He very quickly became a member of our family. I am often overheard asking the whereabouts of my various family members – including Larry.

Of course, that does not seem strange to any mum. Our children’s best stuffed friends worm their way into our hearts as solidly as our own children do, over time.

I’ve written about the antics of Larry in previous posts, and I can assure you, while he is still safe and sound in our home, his tendency to wander remains.

(Click the link below to read that epic tale)
https://ifedmykidstoarabidkangaroo.wordpress.com/2022/01/04/the-magic-of-friends/

Upon discovery, he continues to wear that cheeky, smug grin that both amuses and infuriates a person in equal measure.

It was no small miracle that our entire family – Hubs, Thing One, Thing Two, Larry, Old Lion, New Lion, Gordon, Camilla and myself – managed to travel from Japan to Australia and Thailand and on to The Wadge, unscathed and all together.

Feeling rather proud of our accomplishment, I let my eye wander from Larry for a moment and true to form, Larry did a runner.

Mummy? Where’s Larry?

This simple query from Thing One at bedtime, is enough to make my heart stop momentarily. While the resulting panic attack wells up inside of me, I frantically shuffle through the mental snapshots of the day, trying to recall the last time I saw that bloody reindeer…

Scoundrels

The hands of the clock ticked over to 10pm. The summer sun was finally starting to set over the quiet town of The Wadge. The silence of the peaceful, quiet northern town was shattered as the screams of joy and laughter, coupled with jet lag, were starting to wane.
Thing One and Thing Two were finally nestled snuggly in their beds. She opened the bedtime story and began to read softly, as the children’s eyes began to droop sleepily.
“Er, Mummy? Where’s Larry?”
Her soft reading stuttered to a stop and she swore softly under her breath.
“Oh for F—‘sake,” she uttered, more loudly than she had intended, “You didn’t leave him in Marathon, did you!?”
They had spent the day in the town of Marathon, about one hour away from The Wadge. She suddenly had a flash of memory. Larry had gone to A&W for lunch with them, and she hadn’t noticed him lurking about since.
“I think so…no! Wait! Yes! Er, no…. umm, maybe?” Thing One looked at her with tear-filled eyes. Even though he is not a baby anymore, Larry still holds reign as the number one protector at bedtime for Thing One. The thought of spending the night without him was unthinkable.
Racing down the stairs with her flashlight, she searched the yard and the car…twice.
Larry was nowhere to be found.
She turned back to the house to give Thing One the bad news.
Tears ran down his cheeks. Larry was gone again and this time he was really far away.
The soft voice of Thing Two whispered, “Here, Thing One. You can sleep with Camilla tonight.”
Thing One bravely blinked back tears, as he placed Camilla next to him, where Larry was meant to be.
She stroked back her son’s hair, and whispered, “We’ll call around and find him tomorrow, Baby Boy. Try to get some sleep. Wherever he is, Larry is going to be okay.”

She hoped deep within her heart, that she hadn’t just uttered a total lie to her son.

True to form, a phone call to the A&W in Marathon the following morning revealed the glorious news that Larry had been found – lurking under a table. He had spent the night in the office. The heroic woman on the phone revealed that she was a mum too, and when she found Larry, she just knew that he was well-loved, and that his best friend would be back to get him.

We rejoiced at the news that Larry had been found, and leapt into the car to make the journey to Marathon to pick him up.

“New rule! None of the special friends are to leave the house ever again…unless we are going to Nanny’s house!

I really need to write down all of my “New Rules”…

Gazing down at Thing Two, she did a quick check that everyone was present and tucked in: Camilla? Check. Snappy? Check. Mummy Bear? Check. Sister Bear? Check. Shiny Dolphin? Check. Grandpa Bear? Check. Kitty Cat? Check. Jerome the Giraffe? Check. Thing Two? Check.
Gordon? …..Gordon?
“Oh… for the love of – Where the hell is Gordon!?”

With dread forming a dark pit in my stomach, I interrogated Thing Two about the last known whereabouts of her beloved teddy bear. We checked under all the furniture. We looked in the yard. We checked in the car. Gordon was nowhere to be found.

“He’s in bloody Marathon! I just know it!” she uttered angrily. Astounded that just a mere three weeks after Larry had done a runner, now Gordon had done the same. “I am NOT spending my entire Sunday driving back and forth to Marathon AGAIN! I am going now!” It was 9:40 pm, and the sun was still bright in the sky.
Hubs stared at her wordlessly for a moment, “What? You’re going now?”
The sounds of devastated sobbing coming from Thing Two’s bedroom made the decision for her.
As she raced out to the car, her next door neighbour inquired about where she was headed so late at night. Hearing the tale, she cautioned, “Be careful on the highway out of town. Those moose are hard to see at night. Oh! The things we do for our kids, eh?”

With one eye on the road, and the other scanning the side of the highway for moose and other creatures, I raced to Marathon for the second time that day. I was confident, mostly, that Gordon was on a trailer at a workshop yard. We had been negotiating the purchase of a truck that afternoon, while Thing One and Thing Two had played on a trailer. I had a mental snapshot of Gordon having the time of his life. I hadn’t been paying close attention, and had forgotten to do my attendance check before driving back to The Wadge.

I pulled into the workshop yard on two wheels. There was a party going on, and I could see one gentleman relieving himself in the grass next to the trailer, and another unfortunate soul, who was relieving himself of his stomach contents, not much further away. As I slammed the car into park and got out, the rain began to fall. Racing to the trailer, there was Gordon, staring happily up at me. He looked happy to see me, and I was certainly overjoyed to see him.

Giving Gordon a cuddle, I hurried back to the car and turned around to make the hour long trek back to The Wadge.

Glancing down at the clock on the dashboard, she noted that it was 11:15. The sky, so bright when she had left on this rescue mission, was now dark and stormy.
Realizing she was more than halfway back to The Wadge, she pressed down on the accelerator and pushed the car up to 110 kilometers per hour; thoughts of that glass of wine she had originally planned on having after the kids were in bed, returned.
“You had better appreciate this.” she muttered to Gordon who was comfortably laying on the passenger seat, grinning up at the rain drops on the window.
The car wound its way around the curve of the road and as she glanced up from Gordon, she noticed with horror that two massive moose were standing in the middle of the road!

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSE!”

Too terrified to utter her usual F words, she slammed her foot down onto the brake, cranking the wheel to the right and felt the car skid and shudder its way onto the gravel shoulder. Gordon, not wearing a seatbelt, flew through the air, hitting the dashboard and coming to a rest on the floor of the passenger side.

The moose turned to look at her, looked at each other – shrugged in a moose-y fashion – and sauntered off nonchalantly into the forest.

Hands shaking, and hyperventilating slightly, she pulled back onto the highway and continued on to The Wadge at 20 kilometers under the speed limit; honking the horn,
all the way home.

Moose. Standing, ironically.

Still shaken at the near death-by-moose experience, I nestled Gordon under the covers with Thing Two. The dried tears on her cheeks glimmered in the glow of her nightlight. In her sleep, Thing Two pulled Gordon in close under her chin, and smiled softly.

“Oh! The things we do for our children, eh?”
Indeed…