When I tuck Raphaela in at night, Bunny lays down right next to her. When I take Raphaela out of her crib in the morning, we cannot continue the day unless both she and Bunny have received a Good Morning kiss.
Bunny, Raphaela's most cherished attachment object, has torn his shoulder. He needs a seamstress more than he needs a Chiropractor.
Luckily, upon the advice of parents more experienced than I, Bunny has a sister, a pink version of himself. This doll has been sitting in a drawer, waiting for such an occasion to spring into action, and will be substituting until the original can return, whole again after his 'surgery.'
Bunny's sister is soft and new, and does not have various stains from being loved and sucked to death by Raphaela, but in the end, there is no replacing the original.
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