When our youngest niece was about to turn three, she was told that her third birthday was the end of the binky. “What happens when you turn three?” “No more binky!” she exclaimed proudly. So on her third birthday, there was a certain amount of three-year-old emotion, but she happily surrendered her binky.


She had cached extra binkies around the house. Backs of drawers, under cushions, in shoes in the closet… No smoker threatened with a final loss of cigarettes worked harder than this kid to hide emergency fixes. Stuff was turning up for months.

Her kid brother, OTOH, fussed for about a day after he had to lose his. Afterward, meh.

They’re 17 and 15 now. You could probably guess their current personalities based on just the above anecdote. Both great kids, btw.

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Husband & retiree. Developer, tech writer, & IT geek. I fill what’s empty, empty what’s full, and scratch where it itches. Occasionally do weird & goofy things.

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