Be Bo

This tiny hippopotamus has something small to say
And if you’re very quiet now
She’ll say it right away.
Be Bo.
copyright Sandra Boynton, Belly Button Book

Ah, Sandra Boynton, thank you for making a book for my Pebbles. Oh, you didn’t write it for her? Well, you could have. Because it is so very her.

This child is a belly button addict. Dude and Fancy were complete binky addicts, from birth. They loved the binky. Pebbles wanted nothing to do with it. Suck suck SPIT. Chew a little as she got older, but never did she pick up the habit. No, Mama was her pacifier. She never really settled on a comfort object either, still changes up who she wants in her bed. But the be bo? It’s always there for her. Apparently, she found her security object. Joke’s on me thinking it would be a binky or a kitty or a puppy like the Bigs. It’s be bo.



Any time she is nervous, her hand goes for the be bo. Anytime she gets a cup? Same thing. I have actually unzipped or unbuttoned her pjs (the like, 3 times I tried anything one piece in recent memory) so she could have access to the be bo, because none of us were sleeping! Seriously. When I put a onesie on in the winter for extra warmth? I have to leave it unsnapped, so she has a tail. But she can get her be bo. Dresses do not stop her, she just hikes it up & finds her precious comfort object.


At the pool recently she got tired and snuggly and suddenly was tugging madly at her bathing suit and I could tell she was getting upset.

"What are you doing, sweetie?" I asked.

"I trying to find my be bo, Mama. You get it?" she replied. Aww. I wish I could help. But I am not sure we're ready for bikinis quite yet, honey.

So, we have been telling ourselves she’ll grow out of it. She can’t possibly go to college still playing with her be bo when she’s sad or tired or anxious, right? But yesterday we were at the National Aquarium in Baltimore, and I seriously saw a teenage girl lift up her shirt, show off her round belly, and play with hers. Of course, it also had a belly button ring in it (something the Hubs will never sign off on before either of the girls are of the age of emancipation). But still. I had to laugh.

And get a *tad* nervous.