A girl and her blanket

My dad called and asked that I come by Grandpa's place sometime soon and pick-up all the belongings I requested.  A few weeks ago, I went to the house along with my sister and two cousins to sift through the place.  We were instructed to use post-it notes and label anything we wanted.  It was weird to do such a thing, but we had a nice time reminiscing.  Really, it couldn't have been more pleasant.

While I was at Grandpa's this afternoon, I decided to quickly look through a small box of handkerchiefs and such.  Among the small pile I saw my old pair of Raggedy Ann shorts I wore as pajama bottoms.  Of course I just had to pick those up for Mia.

At the bottom of the pile I found something I'd call a purse, but what do I know?  Anyways, I picked up the "purse" because I thought it was pretty.  I was looking at all the stitching when I noticed there was something inside.  I pulled out what I thought was a piece of fabric and immediately I recognized the cloth.  Initially, I believed it was familiar because my Grandma might have used the fabric for some sewing project that I vaguely remembered.  Then I pulled out the second piece of fabric just like the first except for a satin edging.  It was then I knew without a doubt that the tattered pieces of cloth I was holding were cut from my blankie.  I'm not sure how I acquired my blanket as a child, but when I was little I was never without it.  It became another appendage.  At times, a very stinky appendage.

At one point my then step-dad threatened to toss my blanket.  I was upset of course, and I told my Grandma about this.  More than likely she was just as tired of blankie, but she loved me enough to compromise.  I clearly remember her cutting a few small squares from my blanket for me to keep.  I'm not sure how these pieces eventually ended up in this purse, but my discovery was sweet.  

I called my dad and told him about finding pieces of my blanket tucked away in that little purse.  Without any prompting he said, "Your yellow blanket?".  Yep, I guess you'd call it yellow, or maybe yellowed, but we were talking about the very same blanket.  He thinks my Grandma may have placed the pieces of my blanket in the purse so I'd never find them.

I disagree.