I love Hello Kitty almost to the point of a sick obsession. When I was pregnant, I found out that Build-a-Bear was featuring a limited edition Hawaiian Hello Kitty. I promptly bought one. When the purrfect Kitty arrived, a co-worker asked if she was any indication of my baby’s gender (unknown to the outside world). You should have seen her face when I announced no, the Hello Kitty was mine, and “I don’t share.”

Despite my husband’s jokes that, boy or girl, we would have a Hello Kitty nursery, I restrained myself. Hello Kitty is my love, not necessarily my child’s. And, again, I don’t share. I wasn’t even the person who bought my daughter her first Hello Kitty wares; but after it became apparent that my daughter, too, loved Hello Kitty, I bought her each subsequent one.

My baby girl can pick Hello Kitty out of a five cat lineup, easily. She is such a fan — not as big a fan as me, but I have [cough cough cough] years on her. She could catch up. Someday.

Right now, one of her prized possessions is a Hello Kitty towel, with Kitty’s head on the hood, bearing a HUGE three-dimensional bow. Tonight after her bath, my daughter wanted to wear the towel after her pajamas were on. Then she wanted to wear it to bed. Once in bed, she took Hello Kitty off… For about five minutes.

Out of nowhere, this girl starts having a temper tantrum over her Hello Kitty-deficient head. I know her pain. So… I let her wear it to sleep. No joke.

Sanrio Dreams, my sweetheart!

Posted from my iPhone, so please forgive any ducking typos.