This is not my Wubba.

Meet Raegan. 3 months of smiles and slobbers. big blue eyes and squishy cheeks. Happiest early in the morning (don't know who she got that from) with a fully tummy and clean underpants.
Meet Wubba. Life-saver of Raegan's parents, i.e. the enduring souls who have survived crazy dogs and colic. Wubba is (genious!) designed for tiny hands to hug onto so that one's pacifier doesn't fall out of one's sweet mouth and incite screams of anguish.
These. Are not Raegan's Wubbas. The green one will suffice when Wubba has to get a bath, but the others....well, she's not been kind in her rejections. They get a few seconds of cursory taste-testing before they are released from the mouth with the most disdainful of expressions... We'll keep trying I'm sure to graduate to a more convinent form of soothing, but for now Santa may have to bring a backup Wubba to our house.