When Grace was a baby, one night she asked for her blankie.  She had 22.  So I piled blankie after blankie on top of her, one at a time.  I paused after each one, saying "There.  Blankie."  To which she would reply.  "No. Blankie?"

It was a little like the princess and the pea, in reverse - all the blankies on top of the princess.  I am not sure I ever got the one she wanted.

The other night, she was feeling cold, so I pulled the pile of baby blankies off her top shelf, and told her the story.  I then piled each blankie on her - telling her where they came from:  Aunt Debbie.  Terri's mom.  Aunt Jeannie and Uncle Greg.  Dad's friend Chris.  My friend Dawn.  She was smothered in blankies.  So then she was hot.  So now, they are all piled up on the floor.

Tonight, I just piled on one extra blanket - a quilt I made for Pop Pop (Phil's dad Tom), that we inherited back.  This quilt comes with extra love - especially now.  You can read my original post - Whole Lotta Loving,
or just know that once the girls helped me finish this quilt, they wrapped it around themselves before we gave it to Tom to add "extra love".  Back then I was mad I had to refold it, but now, I might go get under it myself.