Binkies are Fabulous

Camille loves her binkies.

I originally wasn't planning on giving her a binky, but this kid loves to suck. Sometimes (like right now!) the binky is the only thing that will stop her from fussing. Not that she fusses a lot; I've been assured by veteran parents that Camille is an angel. My mom always told me that I was a good baby, but she recently revealed to me that, apparently, I was a pain in the ass.

And even though Camille loves the binky, sometimes she's not in the mood for it. In those cases, when we try to put it in her mouth, she makes a face like we dipped it in shit. Then she'll spit it out and continue crying or fussing or whatever she was doing.

I don't intend on letting her keep the binky past a year old. When I was a kid, I was addicted to binkies until I was like 3 or something. Finally, my mom got me to get the binky monkey off my back. Oscar the Grouch was my favorite Sesame Street character (after Cookie Monster, of course), and I was under the belief that he lived in our kitchen trash can. My mom told me that Oscar wanted to have my binky (I thought I only had one, when in reality there were about 700 backup binkies), and I happily gave him what he wanted. A short time later, I was spotted peering into the stinky depths of the trash can, saying, "Oscar? Oscar, I want my binky back."