I have a confession to make. I sleep with a toy. No, not THAT kind of toy. I sleep with a stuffed animal. Well, I did until a few days ago, when he went missing.
This morning, TheBoy came into my room, looked around the bed and asked where the toy went. I told him I had lost it. He said, "I find it faw you." He then looked around, but had no luck. So he left. He came back and tossed Hello Mr. Zebra (the zebra-headed blankie toy with which he has slept since he was tiny) at me. When I asked why he did that, my son replied, "You lost your toy. You take zebra."
My heart melted. By that point, his oldest sister was in my room. The case of the missing stuffy peaked her interest. After activating her super sleuth abilities, she found him shoved down by the headboard. TheBoy then responded with a loud, "Yay," while he threw his hands in the air. He then quickly snatched back his toy and told me, "You found your toy. I take zebra back."