Upon her arrival home from a trip up the coast with Emily to visit some friends in Vilassar de Mar today, Jan said to me, “I have some bad news.” (Don’t ever do this to anyone, by the way. People’s imaginations are too fast and erratic and they usually get more upset than they have to.) Anyway, Jan continued, “We lost B-B-B today.”

He apparently jumped ship from Emily’s pushchair somewhere between our friend Rebecca’s house and the train station. Jan retraced their footsteps and scoured their path, but it was to no avail.

I was surprised to note how upset this news made me feel. B-B-B has become Emily’s bestest friend in the whole wide world recently. Not only do they sleep together, but Emily regularly tries to dress him in her clothes, push him around the flat in her pushchair, put diapers on him, apply skin cream to his belly, and kiss him tenderly. Jan was noticeably upset, as well. Emily seemed fine. For the moment.

I quickly tried to contact Lucy in England to find out where she had bought him in hopes that I could run out and get a new one before bedtime. After I realized that I didn’t have her phone number, I sent her an email, left her a message on Facebook, and called all of her friends in Barcelona looking for her phone number. No luck.

As she does every night when preparing to go to bed, Emily told us she would be ready to sleep once one of use retrieved her Big Brown Bear for her. Jan and I nervously looked at each other and quickly changed the subject. Winnie The Pooh came out and took Emily’s mind off of B-B-B for a while with an impromptu game of tickle war. We later handed her a different bear and she reluctantly accepted the switch. For now.

This isn’t over yet. I can feel it.