Because I'm a sharer, I posted on Facebook that we were retracing our steps from a day in town, trying to find a lost Woody. All my wonderful friends know that Woody means the world to Micah. It's his favorite toy slash comfort item slash best friend. My wonderful friends asked if we'd found Woody or had any idea where he might be.
We kind of narrowed it down to the last two stops, and I called the most likely place to see if Woody was hiding out in their showroom. No luck. But they took my name and number in the event that Woody showed up.
And then because I'm the Worst Mom Ever, I kind of forgot that Micah lost Woody because Micah went to school on Wednesday and I woke up with a sinus infection that morphed into a double ear infection. After school Sam took the kids to church while I went to bed. At 7PM. And then Micah was sent off to school Thursday morning and I went to the doctor for medicine.
When I got home from town I saw that a Facebook friend had commented on my status from Tuesday, saying that there was an ad in the local newspaper for a lost Toy Story toy. (THANK YOU, dear friend.) I looked it up online for the number. Here's what the ad read:
FOUND: In Smst parking lot, ToyLost and Found — FOUND: In Smst parking lot, Toy Story doll, obviously special to someone
The last four words were kind of a big red neon sign that someone found Woody. This is the Woody that we call Black Woody, because his cloth face is so dirty it's black. Even pouring bleach directly onto the fabric didn't help much. Woody is so battered and loved that a friend recently asked if we can even wash him without fear of the toy just disintegrating. Woody is OBVIOUSLY special.
I called and left a message, but I have this sinus infection that makes me so hoarse I can barely talk. And I had a coughing fit. And I'm sick, so that makes me all weepy like over absolutely amazing things like the goodness of humanity caring about a lost toy. I was kind of choked up, and very hoarse, trying to leave a message. And then realized that I was barely understood and probably sounded like someone leaving a death threat.
I kid you not, a telemarketer hung up on me because I sound so bad. All I said was, "Fine. How are you?," and then I was hung up on. THAT'S HOW BAD I SOUND.
So I called Sam at work and told him to call and leave a message. He did. I received a return call, and the lady was so very kind. She said she knew the minute she saw the toy that some little kid was sorely missing it. She asked me to identify it. Easy. Woody. Falling apart. All cloth. Very much loved. The kind woman said that her now 15 year old son had a beloved Barney doll that was in the same condition. She completely understood, and didn't like the thought of some poor child missing his favorite toy.
Sam drove Micah to get Woody tonight while I slept. Again. (You guys, this whole-head infection is kicking me.) You can only imagine Micah's joy at being reunited with his best friend again. I'll have to imagine it, too, because I wasn't there, I can barely hear, and my one eye is glassed over with gunk.
You guys, I will probably always cry when I think of the dear lady that paid to take out an ad in the newspaper to help a little boy be reunited with his beloved toy.