Noir's Story
To know Bryce is to know Noir. If you saw her, you might think that Noir was a tattered, faded light blue thermal blanket, but you would be WRONG. Dead wrong. She is Bryce's cat, and she cannot be left alone, because she becomes very lonely. She accompanies us on car rides and has to sleep in Bryce's bed with him. Sometimes she pretends to be a hat, an elephant trunk, or a cape; she is quite talented. Bryce named Noir when he was two years old; we thought it was a phase. But now she is a bona fide member of our family.
One time when Bryce was three, some foolish pre-school teacher accidentally sent her home with a classmate, and much drama ensued. In fact, I personally cried some tears over that one, thinking that we'd lost her forever and I was going to have to figure out a way to discuss the grieving process with my pre-schooler. As it was, John and I had to do some major thinking. After literally calling the parent of every kid in his class, leaving frantic messages on their machines explaining that Bryce had never slept a night without this precious item, we had not located her. Bedtime was approaching, and I was about to die of heartache every time Bryce looked at me with those hopeful, tear-filled eyes and said, "did Riley have her? Did you talk to his mom?"
In a flash of brilliance that can only be described as a Festivus miracle!, John remembered that Noir originally (as in when Bryce was still sleeping in a crib) had an accompanying blanket partner, one which was still folded neatly in his drawer. He introduced it as "Noir's Sister" and we asked Bryce if she would be acceptable until the next day, when we would continue our search in earnest. For those of you who think we could have "tricked" Bryce by telling him we found Noir and presenting him with this imposter cat-blanket, well, you don't know Bryce very well. That kid can walk into the house after being gone all day and spot the most miniscule, inconsequential change to a room: "Who moved this carpet?" "You mean by half an inch when I swept the wood floor earlier??". The word "perceptive" doesn't even begin to describe him.
Noir's sister didn't really cut it, but we also offered Noir's Dad and Noir's Grandmother (Noir's Mom happens to live with my mom). We all made it through the night and the next day she was FOUND! with a classmate who had recently moved, so we hadn't had the right phone number for him when we'd been calling parents the day before. Luckily Bryce's school took our missing cat report seriously enough to help us find her - we all know if you don't find a missing cat-blanket within 24 hours, it's very unlikely that she'll ever turn up at all.
One time when Bryce was three, some foolish pre-school teacher accidentally sent her home with a classmate, and much drama ensued. In fact, I personally cried some tears over that one, thinking that we'd lost her forever and I was going to have to figure out a way to discuss the grieving process with my pre-schooler. As it was, John and I had to do some major thinking. After literally calling the parent of every kid in his class, leaving frantic messages on their machines explaining that Bryce had never slept a night without this precious item, we had not located her. Bedtime was approaching, and I was about to die of heartache every time Bryce looked at me with those hopeful, tear-filled eyes and said, "did Riley have her? Did you talk to his mom?"
In a flash of brilliance that can only be described as a Festivus miracle!, John remembered that Noir originally (as in when Bryce was still sleeping in a crib) had an accompanying blanket partner, one which was still folded neatly in his drawer. He introduced it as "Noir's Sister" and we asked Bryce if she would be acceptable until the next day, when we would continue our search in earnest. For those of you who think we could have "tricked" Bryce by telling him we found Noir and presenting him with this imposter cat-blanket, well, you don't know Bryce very well. That kid can walk into the house after being gone all day and spot the most miniscule, inconsequential change to a room: "Who moved this carpet?" "You mean by half an inch when I swept the wood floor earlier??". The word "perceptive" doesn't even begin to describe him.
Noir's sister didn't really cut it, but we also offered Noir's Dad and Noir's Grandmother (Noir's Mom happens to live with my mom). We all made it through the night and the next day she was FOUND! with a classmate who had recently moved, so we hadn't had the right phone number for him when we'd been calling parents the day before. Luckily Bryce's school took our missing cat report seriously enough to help us find her - we all know if you don't find a missing cat-blanket within 24 hours, it's very unlikely that she'll ever turn up at all.
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