The woobie became popular in the movie Mr. Mom which starred Michael Keaton. His son in the film had a woobie. The woobie was his security blanket. It was, in fact, a blanket. A wool one. Well throughout the story, "dad" was faced with the task of taking his son's woobie away. Something that wasn't that easy to do. It was a sad sad time. I remember it well. I cried when they burned the woobie in the fire. Nobody should ever have to give up their woobie. Not you, not I, not anyone. A woobie is a terrible thing to waste. Everyone has a woobie in their life. Linus has a woobie. His woobie is his blanket as well. Charlie Brown's woobie was Snoopy. I have a woobie. My woobie is the 1997 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Calendar featuring Knikki Taylor and her Knipples. Don't try to understand what that means. When you finally get to the 'About Me' section of this site, you'll put 2 and 2 together.

WE HAVE A NEW WOOBIE STORY!!!! CLICK HERE TO READ IT!!!!!

Meet Daisy and her woobie. Daisy is the little girl on the left in case you were wondering. There is a story behind this cute little picture. The story below was submitted by Daisy's loving mother, Shirley. Thank you Shirley.

Story Below:

Woobie began his life as a nicely squared crocheted baby afghan that was given to my daughter Daisy at birth by her Aunt Mary. (Viewing the picture of one of the last sightings of "Woobie" you will see that his appearance changed drastically).

Wherever Daisy went, Woobie went; although I must admit that she lovingly called him "Blankie". "Blankie" was a very multi-faceted object in Daisy's life. From the time she could make a fist and grasp objects, "Blankie" and Daisy were inseparable. "Blankie" was capable of many different things. Of course when she was a baby, "Blankie" was merely a comfort to Daisy. As she grew older, "Blankie" became very versatile. There was one particularly long string that Daisy would pull tight and strum like a guitar. She could actually play simple tunes on it depending where on the string she would pluck. There was a particular hole in "Blankie" that served as a "toe-hole"..yes, that's what she would do; stick her toe in it and stretch "Blankie" out more. Don't know why; never asked. It made her secure and happy and that was all that I wanted.

By the time Daisy reached kindergarten she was still very attached to "Blankie". I decided that whatever she was comfortable with was where we would go with this situation. She was comfortable to just have "Blankie" ride to school with us; she would give it a hug and a quick sniff goodbye and knew that when I picked her up in the afternoon that "Blankie" would be right where she left it.

Unless I had to wash it! That was a necessity every week or so; "Blankie" usually had dollops of waffle syrup or juice or just plain ol' dirt on it and would emit a tell-tale odor. So, I would get a pillowcase, stuff "Blankie" safely within, safety pin the pillowcase shut and stick it in the washing machine. I dared not attempt to wash it any other way; if I were to simply PUT it in the washing machine, I am sure "Blankie" and the washing machine would have an apocalyptic battle and I am sure "Blankie" would win. Its no fun buying new appliances.

Our lives with "Blankie" abruptly ended in the spring of 1995 when Daisy was 6; six days before her 7th birthday. It was a beautiful spring day and Daisy was in the backyard doing what 6-year olds do on a Saturday afternoon; dig for bugs, slide the dog down the swing set slide, follow Dad around the garden asking a gazillion questions...always keeping a tight hold onto her dear "Blankie". Her Dad decided he needed compost for the garden and asked Daisy if she would like to take a ride down to the horse stalls at the farmers market to get some...ummmm...compost. In her eagerness, Daisy ran to the backyard deck to slip her shoes on and when she jumped up to catch up with her Dad she left "Blankie" lying on a bench on the deck. I saw it all happen up to this point and can verify that that is exactly where "Blankie" should have been when she came back.

Soon after their return a blood-curdling scream erupted from the backyard. I ran out of the house thinking ...9-1-1...9-1-1...and found my precious daughter standing on the deck sobbing uncontrollably. Amidst the cries I could make out what the problem was..."Blankie" was GONE!

Our theory of what happened to "Blankie" is this...we have several squirrels in our yard that we regularly feed shelled nuts and pieces of fruit and they have made their selves quite at home here. We honestly believe that they saw "Blankie" as primo nesting material and decided that the time had come to confiscate this priceless object. At this time in "Blankie"'s life, "Blankie" was merely a ball of yarn held together by a common thread and I can conceive of a squirrel being able to haul it away easily. I spent several days with binoculars scanning the trees in our yard and neighboring yards looking for maybe a small bit of yellow or green (or possibly brown; "Blankie" was quite dirty at the time of his disappearance) yarn. Sadly, all my efforts didn't produce "Blankie".

The loss of "Blankie" was very real for Daisy. She had several sleepless nights before I took her to the school counselor. The counselor helped her fill out a Bereavement Book on "Blankie" and it included several things such as what she missed most about "Blankie", "Blankie"'s birth and death date, etc....the same book the counselor would have used with a living,breathing person she used with "Blankie".

About six months after the loss of "Blankie", Daisy discovered that she liked the texture of my favorite flannel housecoat as much as I did. She began pulling it out of my closet and cuddling up with it during TV time and bedtime. Its not recognizable as a housecoat now; its several pieces of torn material held together by a common thread. And it makes her feel secure and happy. And that makes ME happy.

There you have it folks. A woobie story that could make just about anyone cry. I did. Everyone has a woobie. I said this before, and I'll say it again. "A woobie is a terrible thing to waste." It's quite unfortunate what had happened to "Blankie". Please take a few moments to remember "Blankie". Even if you don't know what a woobie is, after reading such a story, you have to feel touched. Scroll back up. Look at Daisy and "Blankie". So happy. So content. SO GOSH DARN BEAUTIFUL! If you have a woobie story you'd like to share, please send me an email and I'll post it. Thanks Shirley and Daisy. It's a beautiful story, and I miss "Blankie" even though I never got to know him. "Blankie", wherever you are, I love you. Please come back every now and again to re-read this wonderful story. Pass it on. A story such as this should not go unread. I could go on and on about this woobie I never got to know. I won't. I'll stop here. I'm sure you've figured it out by now. I can just go on and on with sentence after sentence. I mean I don't have to stop. But I will. Going on and on and on gets annoying after a while. Please cherish this moment. The warm fuzzy feeling this story has brought you. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It's either the story or the alchohol.

WE HAVE A NEW WOOBIE STORY!!!! CLICK HERE TO READ IT!!!!!