#bittybones convention

I waited until Red had collected himself (i am highly collectible) before returning to the conference room. I didn’t want him to feel embarrassed by his outburst (haven’t been embarrassed by an outburst yet!), so I crept quickly back to our vacated seat. I checked to make sure I wasn’t about to sit on Brassy (not that he’d complain), only to find him missing (good)!

Unlike some bittybones I could name, Brassy is usually well-behaved (are you implying that Buttons is poorly behaved?), so I doubted he’d just wander off. I peered under the chair, thinking he might’ve fallen. Nobody noticed my frantic searching; almost everyone in the room had gone to congratulate the pageant winners and take pictures of the Blank bitty champions for this year. What if one of them had stepped on Brassy... or kidnapped him?

(i would thank them)

I felt panic rising. I wrung my hands together, trying to decide what I should do. Start screaming for him? Screaming seemed like a good idea. At least it seemed like a better idea than snatching people’s purses and searching them for my lost bitty. I just needed to breathe, needed to find him, needed to act right now. My fight or flight response kicked into high gear, but just as I was about to indulge in both options at once, I saw him.

Unaware of my near panic attack, Brassy stood on the folding table in front of the panel of experts, waving at me enthusiastically. The energy drained out of my body, and I swayed on my feet. I let relief carry me forward to collect my wayward bitty.

I started to apologize for his intrusion when I recognized the young woman sitting at the table. She was a well-known expert in bittybones care, specializing in Blank bittys. My apology turned into mixed up sputtered words as Brassy dashed over to be picked up.

“Oh, geez, I’m so sorry. Was he bothering you? I’m so sorry. I told him to-” 

I couldn’t even finish my rambling because Red launched himself from my hands onto Brassy and began to slam his tiny fist into his adopted brother’s face. Brassy grappled with him and they wrestled savagely on the table. Red shrieked obscenities, scratching, biting, and kicking at Brassy while Brassy tried to hold him down. I quickly separated them, earning myself a nice deep bite mark on my hand.

“You made Momma have a panic attack,” roared Red, eyes blazing, tiny finger stabbing at Brassy in accusation.

“I was only asking about Buttons,” Brassy countered, giving me a guilty look. He obviously hadn’t realized how I would react to finding him missing. I could easily see he hadn’t meant to upset me and only wanted to help, but Red refused to see it that way.

(he upset you by being bad)

(You’re always bad!)

(i don’t make Momma cry)

Sure enough, unbidden tears ran down my face. Embarrassed beyond belief as my two boys bickered angrily, I began my tirade of apologies all over again. The bittybones expert smiled at me indulgently.

“Brassberry here was telling me about Buttons,” she said calmly. She had one of those voices that demanded to be heard without being raised in the slightest. My angry boys fell silent. (well, she was helping, so...) “I heard about the Button Bitty Incident. Such a terrible tragedy.” She shook her head sadly. “Did you have any questions about him? I’d love to help.”

I sighed. Where should I start? “I just want to know how to help him. Will he always feel like a Buttonberry and never get to be himself? Will he always be a child and never have a chance to grow up? I guess what I’m asking is, can Buttons be... well... reset to a proper Blank so he can be happy?”

She gave me a sympathetic look, and I knew there wouldn’t be a satisfactory outcome. I braced myself for disappointment. “Once they’ve settled into their true form, Blanks don’t tend to change much, but before you start to feel hopeless, let me ask you a question. Is Buttons unhappy?”

I thought about Buttons’ bubbly laughter, his bright blue eyes, the way he loved to snuggle Red (does not!). 

“No.”

“Do you want him to change? If he were reset to a proper Blank, he’d lose all of his personality.”

I thought about his confusion at finding out he wasn’t a Buttonberry and the promise I’d made to love him for himself. Buttons had gone through an unspeakable trauma, and he still hugged with his whole body and loved with his whole heart. Buttons lit up a room like a little shining star.

My shining star.

“As much as I’d love to take away the trauma of his past, I wouldn’t change a thing about who he is today,” I answered finally. She nodded wisely. I picked up my two boys and carried them back to our seat to hear the rest of the question and answer segment in contemplative silence.

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Blank bitty by gigglesbittyblog