iBear hasn’t ever really had a cuddly toy that she’s been inseparable from until recently when she’s developed an attachment to a little monkey I received as part of a deal on two new car tyres.

After finishing at the Garage and before heading off to work I left it on the kitchen table while she was out with her Mam.   A couple of hours later I received a picture message with her gripping the toy tight and the caption “Is he mine, can I keep him?!” and so a beautiful relationship was born.   Never one for skimping on imaginative ideas, she’s called him “Monkey” (or “Toolyadoo” if she feels that way inclined on a particular day).  The only special treatment Monkey receives is being the go-to choice at bedtime when a cuddle from something is required during story time. That and he’s often required as a car travel companion and this is where the drama started to happen….

One day, after going to visit friends who have a daughter who is 5 years older than iBear, Monkey was brought along and promptly forgotten about while she was distracted playing with all the big girl toys.  Roll forward a few hours and it’s iBears bedtime and she’s happily relaxing in bed as Mammy reads her a story. Then, things go silent…. “Daddy, could you bring Monkey upstairs please”……

The feeling of dread comes over me as I realise where Monkey is. The call comes again. Silence. “Daddy?!” Our eyes meet as she stands on the landing.  From the bottom of the stairs I calmly explain that Monkey is round our friends house and her lip begins to tremble. I’m left with a split second decision and my trainers are on with car keys in hand as I rush for the door shouting –  “I’m going I’m going”.

The argument here is whether I down tools and try and placate her or try and ride out the inevitable storm that will hit us if Monkey doesn’t appear soon. It’s an easy answer. It’s a 30 min round trip (keeping to the speed limits) and I’m on the phone as soon as I set off, hands free – safety first and all that. I arrive at our friends house where he’s waiting at the window with Monkey as I sprint towards the house babbling nonsensically about it all.

I arrive home and apparently there’s been no tears or any heartbreak and they’ve calmly read a few stories apparently oblivious to my efforts.  Have I been had? There’s a 50/50 chance I have but I’m happy with my decision and it makes for a good diary note after all.

Since then Monkey has been left at the Grandparents house, another friends house and down the side of the bed although the panic had never quite reached the heights of above. In fact, now I’m writing about this I don’t think I’ve seem him in a few days…..