I remember when I gave up my own paci (more accurately, when my paci was wrenched from my little bucked teeth and pursed lips), which gives you some indication of my age. My mom came in one day and said, "You are too old for a pacifier." And plucked it out of my mouth.
I recall, white knuckles gripped to the side of my crib (if I can remember this, what was I still doing in a crib!) looking down upon the glow on the floor of my room cast from the lighted bathroom across the hall. For a second the glow was interrupted as mom and my paci walked into the bathroom.
Then I heard the sucking, gurgling, swishing sound of the flushing toilet.
I never saw my pacifier again.
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