Dear Sophie the Giraffe,
I, Deborah Suzanne, mother of Zachary Newman and Jett Owen, owe you an apology.
For three years, I have doubted your worth. I have called you names, such as useless, overpriced squeaky toy. Glorified dog chew. Elitist synthetic garbage. Sophie the whatever-I’m-Not-Paying-$20-for-a-teether Giraffe.
This “all natural rubber” thing has actually been around over 40 years…
I have judged those who shelled out the money to buy you, passing it off as the newest silly trend that my gullible friends had fallen victim to. I have scoffed at every “must-have” list you have appeared on, dismissing it as promotional baby jabber. I have slandered the phony use of the word “organic” to describe your supple, dog-toy’esque construction. I have even advised my other mommy friends and readers not to bother with you or waste their money, because it’s no better than any other teething toy, just more expensive.
And today I sit here behind this computer and humbly, publicly apologize. I was wrong. I was wrong on all accounts. You are magical. You are squeaky, rubber love. You are all that is good about slobbery, gummy smiles and itty bitty teefies trying desperately to emerge. You make happies where there were none. You are baby crack. And you are worth every stupid penny.
You see, I was lent a Sophie, by chance, by a neighbor who was expecting her first baby soon, and wouldn’t need you for a while. She was a Sophie-believer. And I laughed on the inside a little at yet another sucker, seeing as how I didn’t think she could possibly know what my baby needed. But as she gently handed you over to Jett, I watched his chubby little fist clutch you with glee, and your foot didn’t leave his mouth for the rest of the evening. He was quiet and content. His upper gums looked like hamburger meat, but he gave zero fucks. Because he had you, dear sweet, phosphate-free Sophie.
And now there is a backup Sophie in every diaper bag/purse I carry, and one in my glove compartment. That’s approximately $88 worth of Sophie, not counting the borrowed one. And I’ve come to accept that something is “worth” what other people are willing to pay for it. And $22.99 seems like a lot of dough for a little toy, but I’m certain I’ve spent more than that on dumber shit. So I join the masses! I believe in the power of Sophie!
I love you, Sophie. And I’m sorry.
Sophie also makes a nice dinner companion.