Dumping the Dummy and bottle

We were having coffee at Jungle Junkies, a kiddies play area, and we got to chatting about our kids removal of dummies and bottles. My favourite of the day was one mom that tied her child's dummy to the bed by a long string, allowing access just into the TV room, then slowly shortened the string until the child was having to lie in bed, lift up for a few sucks, then lie down again until she gave up on the idea completely. Some sad tales of the little ones stealing dolls plastic dummies and hiding in corner to give it a few sucks.
This got me thinking back about my eldest, a great but sad day. He gave up his dummy at 9 months on his own, but after weaning got really attached to his bottles. A few months after my 2nd son was born I tried unsuccessfully to remove the bottle. After 3 days of all of us crying I gave it back, to try another time. About 6 months after that my son came to me asking for a Duplo fireman set. He said that he really needed it. My evil mom saw this as an opportunity. I explained very carefully that mom and dad had no money left, so the only option was to use bottles to buy the fireman. He thought about this and decided No, not worth it. A few weeks later he came to me and said he was ready, he really needed the fireman. Calm on the outside, jumping for joy inside and full of trepidation knowing that this time regardless I had to follow through. I said no problem, after school next day we will go to the Lego shop and buy the fireman with the bottles. We discussed it in bed that night while he was drinking, ensuring he understood his decision, yes he needed the fireman. The next morning he came to me and asked if he could have 1 last bottle please before we go. With a tear in my eye, I made him the final bottle. He took it to his room, lay on his bed and savoured every moment down to the last drop. He then gathered all the bottles, gave them to our cleaner, asked her to please wash them nicely for him as he was going to buy a fireman with them after school. At this point, it was taking all my power not to burst into tears and tell him it was alright he can keep them and get the fireman.
I fetched him from school, bottles clean in a packet, ready, Not! We drove to the Lego shop where I again confirmed he understands that this means he can no longer have a bottle, he assured me he knows. He ran to the Lego shop, grabbed his Fireman box, ran to the till, handed his packet of bottles over. The staff at the shop were amazing, without blinking she took the bottles, rang up the fireman, put it in a packet and gave it to him. This beaming exited child popped his packet in the pram and went to play at the tables. I gladly slipped the assistant my credit card, she carefully hid bottles in a different packet and slipped them under all bags in the pram.
That night expecting the worst, bedtime came, a slight tear from my son, but clutching his fireman he went to sleep. He never asked for his bottles again. I was so proud of him, I still get teary thinking about how much he loved something, but when it was time to move on, he did, with maturity, appropriate mourning, a smile.