When Grandpa came to visit last year, he bought my son a stuffed tiger at the zoo. My son loves it. It kind of looks like him, redish-blond hair and dark eyes. The thing is so filthy, irradiation is probably the only way to get it clean. I mean, it's well-loved. He calls the tiger, Tigee since he couldn't say tiger at one year. He sleeps with it and talks to it and gives it kisses on his dirty mouth.
Leopard came to us a special way. One Christmas when my husband and son were sick and at home from Church, there was a knock at the door. When hubbs went to get it, instead of someone on the front porch, a bag full of presents sat on the front stoop. He was so touched he cried. (We still don't know who the mysterious gift-giver was, but it must've been someone who knows us well since my name was spelled right and no one spells my name right.) Leopard was a stocking stuffer and now a great companion to Tigee.
2 comments:
For the record:
1) Grandpa came the year before last (2007, not 2008).
2) There was no knock; I went outside to take out some trash and the stuff was all just sitting there on the porch.
could a trip through the microwave solve some of tigee's problems?
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