My Childhood Blanket Essay Example

red because I find it corny. However unsightly this blanket may seem, I still love it! When I was a child, every time I felt lonely, I used this blanket to feel more secure and at ease. It was like a magical blanket that gave me happy thoughts.

That is why I have nurtured some sort of love-hate relationship with my blanket. My unique blanket is approximately 3? feet by 5 feet. I used to fit easily into it when I was a child. Now that I have considerably outgrown it, the blanket barely covers me. As it is made of silk cloth, its smooth sensation gives me an unfathomable feeling of well-being whenever I rub it against my skin. The stains in it reflect its age and the moments that I have shared with it. Because of my clumsiness as a child, it was soiled by food spills and several accidents I had, leaving permanent stains.

These stains, however, did not make it any less comfy. As a child, my ‘blank-kee’ was my constant companion. As I said I was the youngest in the family, but there was a considerable age difference between me and my youngest sibling. My sister is 10 years older than me; the “generational-gap” between us made it a bit difficult to communicate with my sister and to develop a good relationship with her. Nonetheless, my blanket never failed to provide me unrelenting emotional support by giving me more comfort than merely its capacity to warm. I have been through a lot with this blanket.

That is why it was my “best-partner-in-crime”. I remember the days when

my mother force-fed me veggies. Whenever my mother fed me with something that looks green or has an odious smell (EWW! ), I spat it out when she was not looking and covered it underneath my blanket. I also have this vivid memory of my mother getting mad at me for my naughtiness. You see, I was a really chubby kid when I was young, so my mother wanted me to go on a diet. I had to cut down my sugar intake, but controlling my craving for sweets was proving more difficult than I thought.

When I can’t hold it any longer, I stole from our refrigerator a can of Coke and a Snicker chocolate bar that was a left over from one of our dinner parties. I had not yet drunk the whole can when the doorbell rang, which was an indication that my mom had returned from a day of hell. I hastily hid my can of Coke and the chocolate wrapper underneath the sofa out of sheer panic, accidentally knocking over the can. With the adrenaline rush of danger, a brilliant idea came to me and I made use of my blanket to wipe off the Coke on the floor, leaving it flawless and sparkly clean.

There was nothing to be found at the crime scene, so I acted nonchalant and continued watching the television show. I thought that my partner in crime that saved me would remain to be my sole witness. Later that night, as everyone finished dinner and started approaching the family room to watch TV, my mother found the can and wrapper under the sofa!

It was really stupid of me to forget the most important thing to do after a crime—dispose of the evidence! Since no one is willing to admit the misdeed, I stood up and confessed. My mother already knew it was me.

My mother even saw my wet blanket and she confiscated it from me. I was like a fish in an aquarium whose oxygen was removed. While the kids at my age had teddy bears, I had my blanket, so the first few days without my blanket were really tough. I realized that I had been relying on my blanket for too long. After all, I was only six when my mother took it away from me. It was really lonely and depressing without my blanket. As I grew up, my mother wanted me to replace it, because it didn’t fit me anymore. However, I always protested because I felt really comfortable by having it around me that I badly wanted it back. … … fill the psychological needs to be part of a lifestyle of culture” (Moffett 2).

The blanket acted as my security blanket, it covered my flaws and helped me to cope with the problems I faced in life. When I turned twelve, my mother surprised me on my birthday and gave me a blanket. It was the exact blanket I had six years ago, only it’s cleaner. However, some stains remained because they became harder to remove as the years went by. My mother had replaced the blanket lining with new cotton-fillings. It felt much better than before. I was really thankful that my mother did that for me.