This is a true story. I have changed the names of the participants in order to spare them from possible embarrassment. After all, I did not ask them for permission to post this account of a rather amusing incident extracted from our family archives.
Kevin loved his blanket. In fact, he loved it so much that because of the many months that he had fondled it, and repeated washings by his mother, the blanket had been reduced to a small dark square. Nevertheless, Kevin still refused to part with his blanket. He had it with him almost every waking moment, and it was absolutely essential at nap time and bedtime.
Kevin’s family decided to take a trip. Perhaps it was a vacation. I’m not certain about that. Anyway, as the family headed down the road in their automobile – John, Mary, John Jr., Jim, Dorothy, and little Kevin, Kevin was asleep. Some miles on their way John pulled into a service station to get some gasoline. As the car stopped, Kevin woke up and discovered that his blanket was missing. Hysteria erupted. The family was in an uproar. The blanket remnant could not be found anywhere. What could they do? At that critical moment, the gas station attendant approached the driver’s window with an oil dip stick and an oily rag in his hand. In those long-ago days, every service station was full service, and attendants checked your automobile’s oil level as a matter of course. Anyway, little Kevin spotted the dirty oil rag and evidently thought it was the missing blanket. He let out a yell and demanded “his blanket”. John persuaded the attendant to give up the oil rag, and shortly afterwards the family went on its merry way.