And, all hell breaks loose

All was dandy until it wasn't tonight and for Walter, all hell broke loose.
He hadn't had a Nuk for much of the afternoon, and at story time tonight he said to me, "Yuckie, yuckie," meaning, "Nuk", or more specifically, "I need my Nuk NOW."
I went and got the only one I happened to find - and it had a big hole in it.  Not good.
I threw it away.
And that, is approximately the point when the aforementioned happened.

He cried, wept, sobbed uncontrollably, placed his two fingers in his mouth and stared up at me despondently.  It was AWFUL and I don't do sadness that well.  On one hand, I thought, fine, we have to get over nuks tonight and we'll all suffer through, and on the other, I thought, my poor, desperate, beautiful baby is SO SAD, and then one other lingering thought was in the back of my mind nagging at me:  tonight is going to be THE WORST if I don't find this child a yuckie.
(A side note:  While Henry is my cuddler and is lost without comfort when he is sad, Walter is the total opposite and will not allow anyone to comfort him until (and if) he is ready.  So, while he wept, staring up at me with big, soppy, sad, pathetic eyes, he refused comfort - making the incident even more painful for the rest of us.  -- I'm not going to pretend that this "quality" didn't likely originate from me.)

He and I searched.  Well, to be precise, I searched and he followed me around the house whimpering. 
I do not know how - because I think the yuckies are just on their way out and we haven't been replenishing them - but I miraculously found one. 
Walter and I ran to the bathroom and washed it and plugged him up quickly before he leaked any more. 
All was right with the world, and he was then able to curl up on my lap to read stories.

A "lovely fetch game"

I was reading on the sofa while Henry and Walter played in the kitchen.  I wasn't paying too much attention as there was no crying, no whooping, nothing to get worked up about - then certain words and phrases caught my ear.  Things like Henry saying, "sit," listening to Walter pant, and then hearing him occasionally leave and venture back to his brother.  I started peeping at them from my comfortable spot, and stifled laughing outright as they continued to play "fetch" - Henry the person, and Walt the dog.  They played their parts quite well:  Walt fetched the toy dinosaur and delivered it to Henry, happily, in his mouth.  He panted like any dog who was running around might.  Henry, prior to throwing the toy, firmly and kindly requested that Walter sit first, and upon hearing a plunk on the floor, I figured his brother followed the direction appropriately.  Hen would throw the toy and Walt would dutifully trundle after it.  This went on for longer than I think Walt should've played that role, personally, but then ended abruptly as Walter walked away saying, "No mu-ee", which translated into his language means: "no more". 
Henry said, "That was a lovely fetch game."

Henry

Tonight Henry told me that I am beautiful just the way I am.  I thought that was really cool - especially as it was on the heels of trying to differentiate his contradictory views of wanting to call me a princess while also feeling that princesses are "yuck".  He finally just gave up on the whole princess thing and went with the above statement.  And I thought it was great.  I told him and Walter that they too are beautiful, just the way they are.