She'll never be the same.
I cut the tips off of all of L's pacifiers this week. We had been warning her: "Pacis get old, love, you know that, right? Your pacis look almost broken." One day she found them waiting in her crib for her, with a little bit taken off the top, just like her Daddy at the barbershop.
Pacis broken? She held them up, examined them.
"Sweetie, your pacis broke? Sorry, love! They must have gotten old..."
Pacis old. Pacis broken. She threw them out of her crib.
She's slept unplugged all week.