Feb 16, 2013

A Continentalist in Paris: Lost, not found

La recherche du peluche perdu.

T lost her donkey today. She'd gotten him for Saint Nicholas Day and loved, loved, loved him - but on a short train journey this afternoon (just a single stop on the Saint Lazare / Versailles line!) both she and I lost track of him and it seems he got left behind. It's a complete failure on my part - I didn't pay enough attention.

The SNCF team at our local train station was very helpful and immediately faxed my description of donkey and contact details to other offices on the line - but since donkey is pretty cute, I could imagine someone picking him up and giving him a good home.

I know losing a stuffy or other beloved item is a normal part of childhood, but of course I'd like to fix everything for T - and protect her from everything bad. She worked herself into a state of absolute hysterics (purple face, vomiting) when we first noticed D's absence; we've since agreed that if he doesn't come back, it means another child loved him too much to give up. She won't forget him any time soon (earlier, she was singing herself the extremely sad song "my donkey is so lost / there's nothing we can do / I miss my donkey"), and I do hope he'll turn up...

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