A story of love and addiction: A boy and his Boppy

This won’t be the first blog i’ve written about the dreaded Boppy of stink. Hell, it isn’t even the THIRD blog i’ve written about the damn thing- but I PRAY that it is the last.

It has been a little while since i’ve mentioned it other than how much it stinks from Parker’s head sweat stench that wafts off of it on a daily basis (which is all now solved thanks to some ladies who have liked my Facebook Page), and that’s because I thought we had finally broken his addiction to the damn thing.

Once we moved to the new house, it seemed like far too much of a hassle for him to have to drag it up and down a flight of stairs to take it with him everywhere he went, unlike the old house that was just one level and much easier to navigate- so other than nap and bed time, it looked like he had given up on it. AT LAST!
He competed his 12 steps and was in recovery…

But over the past week he has had a serious Boppy relapse. It is back with a vengeance, and mama ain’t pleased.

He eats with it:

He drags it around regardless of what he’s doing:

He even tried to hide his addiction from me:

What I noticed in all of these pictures is that his hand is always securely fastened to the tag, not the boppy itself, but the long tag on the boppy. He held onto it so much and sucked his thumb while doing so that it started to turn brown and disgusting. So perhaps the relapse was for the tag and not the Boppy specifically.

Once we washed the thing to get the stink out of it (for the billionth time), we decided to try and just give the Boppy COVER to him; wean him away from the bulk of the Boppy, but still give him the tag he seems so obsessed with for the time being.
We even hid the Boppy in our room so he wouldn’t be able to easily get to it, and maybe in time would completely forget about the stupid thing.

Aaaaand wrong. Today he found the coverless Boppy, drug it down the stairs, and collapsed onto it like it had been YEARS since he’d seen the thing. Curses.

Unfortunately, the Boppy also has a tag, meaning the Boppy obsession will live on as long as the tag obsession does… which means that I am completely screwed.

I think it’s time to stage an intervention and send the kid to Boppy rehab. It’s either that, or i’m going to have to burn it and dance on its ashes.
Next to go is the thumb; unfortunately that one won’t be so easy.

Posted on September 12, 2011 by Holdin' Holden 1 Comment
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