It was me. I killed your pacifier. The last pacifier.
It was hanging on by a thread; your emergency pacifier. The one you were relegated to after you lost your two good pacifiers in quick succession.
It was sitting on your dresser, all chewed-through and gross, so I picked it up while your back was turned and…snapped it; pulled the tip of it clean off. I put the pieces back on the dresser and waited for you to notice.
“Mommy! Paci bwoken! Bwoken!”
“Oh no, Buddy! That’s too bad. I guess it’s time to sleep without one. You’ll be ok, Buddy. You’re a big boy. You take all your naps without a paci. You’ll be just fine.”
And, you know what? You were. You even slept in and you woke up happy. What’s more, you didn’t cough at all last night – a first!
Which is why, when I spied both of your good pacifiers stuck between your mattress and bed frame, I pocketed them and said nothing.
So, despite your sister reporting that you got out of bed after tuck-in and searched the room with a flashlight for a paci, this will be our new normal. No pacis, no coughing, good sleep.
You can thank me later…or hold a lifelong grudge, whichever you prefer.