Floppy Repair

Floppy Two narrowly survived an unprovoked attack by the family pet, Diniyoyo,late last week. The unsuspecting Floppy was set upon in the wee afternoon hours when the rest of the family was at school or work. He was found, barely conscious, on the family room floor upon their return. He was immediately taken to the Emergency Sewing Table where the doctor on duty assessed his injuries. Wide-eyed and awake, Floppy listened in shock as the resident seamstress informed him that he had a potentially brain spilling injury to his forehead and had lost his plastic nose. Fortunately, his bowtie, though askew, was still intact. Sam held Floppy's paw through the harrowing and hairy nose reconstruction phase of the procedure but wandered off during the forehead closing to see if Spongebob was on. His sister stepped in at this point, sighing "Oh, brother," and held Floppy's paw for the remainder of the suturing. See the accompanying photo for results of the successful nip and tuck. (Sam reports that he is happy with the "new" Floppy but would have liked me to put a tattoo on his chest. Maybe another time. Sam has two Floppies, Floppy One and Floppy Two. Identical Twins but for some reason, Sam prefers one to the other. He has had them since he was two and a half and is now almost seven. He still totes Floppy around and sleeps with him. On occasion, Floppy becomes an unidentified flying missle or a punching bag, but mostly he is for snuggling and hugging up on. I think when his time is up, we can engrave on this tombstone, "Loved to Death.")

In addition to mending mauled Floppies, I finished Sadie's Robot pillow this week. She loves it and sleeps with it in her crib. Oops, beg pardon. I have just been corrected. It is not a crib (although it was a crib before we took one side off). It is a little bed. She is a big girl and big girls do not sleep in cribs. However, they may choose to sleep in little beds if they are so inclined. We have been unable to convince her to move to the lovingly be-pillowed, Dora the Explorer be-sheeted, stuff toy bedecked, real bed that sits empty in her room. Oh, well. I figure it's not hurting anything. I'll let her stay in the crib a.k.a. little bed until she's ready to move to the big bed. That way I'll have a good story to embarrass her with when she starts dating.