Lammie Weekend: The Untold Story

It was Sydney’s weekend with Lammie, her preschool’s stuffed pet. The Weekend-with-Lammie activity is similar to the Charlie-the-Cheetah activity Trevor’s preschool did. We’re familiar with the drill. Stuffed animal comes home for the weekend to join the family in “regularly-scheduled” activities, Mamarazzi photo documents the experience and scrambles to print photos before returning stuffed mascot to preschool.

If you’re fortunate enough to have your weekend scheduled later in the year, you have the benefit of looking through the photos and stories other families have documented. So you know what you’re expected to live up to.

Trips to the zoo. The aquarium. Visits out of state. Introducing Lammie to grandparents. Special meals. Birthdays. Amusement parks. Major surgeries. Grand openings. Remodels. Rocket launches. Solar eclipses. You know, the usual.

I guess we’ve had nearly three months to plan for our fluffy visitor. And I managed to use everything at my disposal (primarily slick photoshop templates) to make it look like we really rocked the Lammie weekend.

But what follows is an MBP exclusive of what really went down.

Lammie Weekend: The Untold Story

I was excited to spend the weekend with Sydney. Particularly because my limited wardrobe has no dresses. She seemed like the type of person who would give me a makeover. The weekend started out like all my other weekends: a short car ride to a preschooler’s home. I always enjoy the chance to learn about my new family by the types of wrappers the car is filled with, the brand of fast-food fries crammed between the seats, and the speed with which the car travels. I was not disappointed.

Having spent the past ten weekends on incredible adventures, I anxiously awaited what Sydney’s family had planned. Her mom’s tone hinted at forgetfulness and uncertainty, but I pushed past those worrisome thoughts with high hopes.

Per usual, the first activity on the agenda was lunch. My favorite. I’d had wonderful treats such as kale and quinoa as of late, so what did Sydney’s mom have in store? I was immediately confused by the plate. No, not just the likely BPA-laden plastic-ness of the plate itself, but by what sat atop it: four mushy straight-from-the-freezer “chicken” nuggets. Paired with — gasp — nothing. I suppose, her mom was counting the cherry tomatoes Sydney had swiped from the counter when Mom wasn’t looking and the “made with real fruits and veggies” fruit snacks we ate on the ride home. I was hardly impressed.

Her mom mumbled something about “having to work for a bit” and “PBS Kids.” All I know is we spent the next few days — I lost track of time — planted in front of the TV.

I was starting to think my initial reservations were spot on. But I tried to keep an open mind.

The first thing we did after our Superwhy marathon was go somewhere called Snapchat.

Don’t get me wrong. We went on some actual “outings,” too. Places I’m sure we went just so I could pose for a picture. Unfortunate for Sydney’s mom, Sydney had no interest in photo documenting our weekend together. She had no desire to “introduce” me to the world around her.

I’d hoped for new adventures but found myself sliding down the one-and-only-slide at the McDonalds playland. Um, thanks.

The biggest disappointment might have been spending a good portion of the weekend stuffed in a purse, naked, left behind, or alone in a pile of toys.

(I do have a more pressing concern to raise if the right people are listening. I was placed in an age-inappropriate car seat — and not even buckled properly.)

Our one real outing held promise. A trip back to my birthplace — the Build-a-Bear Workshop. Let’s deal with the elephant in the room. Yes, I, Lammie the Lamb, was born and raised by not lambs but bears. It didn’t take long for me to realize this trip wasn’t preplanned with me in mind. In fact, I was stuffed in aforementioned purse. We were there to get Sydney’s bears restuffed and fluffed. All attention on them. During Lammie weekend of all weekends. Things were going downhill fast.

We did an assortment of other things I imagine folks do on non-Lammie weekends: watch youth soccer, attend church, grocery shop, sleep in, clean the house. It just wasn’t the sort of activity one typically plans on a Lammie weekend. I should know. I’m always there.

You may see the cropped photos of my weekend with Sydney and you may think, “Wow! What a weekend!” But, you really shouldn’t believe everything you see on the internet.

2 thoughts on “Lammie Weekend: The Untold Story

  1. Lammie has a bad attitude. A little uppity and self-obsessed, if you ask me. Love the take from his point of view. Awesome as always. Poor guy needs to get a life. Oh, that’s what he’s supposed to be doing every weekend! I get it!

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