Disposal delima.

My 3 yr old was devastated. He came to me a sobbing, half naked, wreck. I had sent him into the bathroom to go potty before bed, and what ever had traumatized him occurred after he had taken his diaper off.  It took a few moments to coax words out between his wails, but eventually he let me know he needed his blankie back out of the trash.

I assured him everything would be okay warned him that his blankie may need a bath after it comes out of the trash, to prepare him for going to bed without his blankie tonight, then I went to go help my son retrieve his most sacred possession.

I figured he had foolishly fetched it from his room on the way to the bathroom, and had dropped it into the diaper-filled trashcan by accident... but once I laid eyes on the situation I realized my son's folly.  Buried under a layer of soiled diapers was a wash-worn, threadbare swath of white cloth that was not, in fact, his blankie.  It was, instead, a discarded pair of underwear that I had judged too loose to continue wearing because of my 110 pounds of weight loss in the last 3 months.  It probably should have died long ago on account of condition, but regardless it was tossed this morning. I showed him that his blankie was safe on his bed, and not in the trash. He went potty, put a nighttime diaper on, and climbed happily into bed to snuggle his blankie.

In an entirely unrelated note, there was a free health screening at work today.  I ranked in the lowest risk class for heart disease, with a less than 1% chance of suffering its effects within the next 10 years.