Ever since I was a little girl, I have been sleeping with my baby blanket every night. 

When I go to bed, I have to have it rest right under my neck because that is how I used to sleep with it when I was younger. 

This blanket is very special to me because I’ve had it for sixteen years.

My blanket reminds me of special, unforgettable memories I’ve had.

It reminds me of playing with my sister at our old house.

Room smelling fresh laundry,

we jumped across from bed to bed in our pink and purple colored bedroom.

It had bright pink flowers on it,

but those have worn down to a faded pink color now.

My blanket has many holes in it.

I used to rip them when I got mad at my mom and dad.

Looking through them I pretend I had a mask on and was an undercover cop.

It had a scent that I never wanted to stop smelling,

fresh laundry and flowers is what it was like.

I had a favorite part to this blanket,

a little bump right by the corner.

Something about this bump made me love it even more.

On one corner, the stitching unraveled.

Carrying it around like a purse,

I felt like my mom.

Hanging my blanket around my head,

I used to think I was Batman.

Running through the hallways and down in our basement,
I felt like I was unstoppable.

My sister thought I looked more like spider man, 

crawling around on the floor and jumping around all the time.

I always bragged mine was better because it smelt better,

she never agreed with me.

Having our own stuffed animals that paired with our blankets.

Mine was a pink bear and hers was brown.

Always playing with them in our bedroom,

we took them everywhere I can remember.

This blanket trails back so many unforgettable memories that I will never forget.