"Are you going to help Mummy fold clothes?" I coo to my eighteen month old son. Aaron is sitting comfy on the plane seat beside me. His eyes are wide and intent on my every move.
"Want," Aaron says, reaching for the shirt in my hand. I laugh, and drop it on his head. He yanks the shirt off, giggling in his cute little babyish laugh that I love to hear.
"What is going on here?" Charlie asks, walking up. "I can hear you two on the other side of the camp."
I throws him a 'look'. "We just started all this, and you just walked up."
"Didn't say I was complaining, luv." Charlie bents down, meeting his lips with mine. He plops down on the blanket in front of us. "What's Aaron doing with my shirt?" he asks, noticing the shirt Aaron is playing with is his blue and gray striped shirt he wore on the plane. The sleeves are ripped off and there's holes in different places, but he still wears it.
"He wanted to play with it," I answer, continuing to fold the rest of our clothes.
Charlie shrugs it off for the rest of the day, but night time comes and Aaron is refusing to let the shirt go. "Come on, Turniphead. It's time to let go of my shirt so you can get to bed." Charlie tries taking it away from our son, but Aaron protests with a scream.
"Awww…" I coo, walking up to them. "I think Aaron has found his lovey."
Charlie looks at me like I'm crazy. "What?"
"You know, a lovey?" When his facial expression doesn't change, I explain, "Like a security blanket. It's a comfort object. Don't tell me you didn't have a lovey?"
"As far as I can remember, I didn't."
I roll my eyes. "Of course, you won't remember. Children carry around loveys before their full-term memory begins to work. It's perfectly natural."
"But why does it have to be one of my shirts, Claire?" I find this rather amusing seeing Charlie so worked up over a ratty old shirt. He tries one more time to take it from our son's grasp, but Aaron's lungs are capable of being heard all the way to the caves. Charlie slumps his shoulders in defeat.
"He chose that shirt because he loves his Daddy. I think it's pretty special that he chose something of yours as a comfort object."
"Really?" Charlie suddenly perks up at that.
"Yes," I reply. Charlie looks very satisfied now. I wrap my arms around his, and lay my head on his shoulder. What Charlie doesn't know is that I found my lovey too. And he's standing right beside me.