SB returned late last night from his rugby tour in Vietnam. He forgot to tell me when he was returning so it was a pleasant surprise. He managed not to lose his wooden spoon or his stuffed animal, a silver poodle that doubled as a purse. I patted myself on the shoulder for being smart enough to find him a very lightweight, balsa wood spoon and put in on a string for him to wear around his neck. Apparently the gift shop next to their hotel did brisk business selling wooden spoons to the unfortunate souls that lost theirs (or had them snatched by evil teammates). Another enterprising woman must have noticed the strange men carrying stuffed animals because SB noticed that later in the weekend she parked herself in front of the hotel with a bag of stuffed bears. By Sunday a half dozen hungover men showed up at the animal/spoon check with stuffed bears.
SB must have missed me because he was extra clingy in his sleep. I had to jab him awake a few times in the night with a plaintive, "Get offfff meeeeee!" I missed him also even though I am not as demonstrative. It was comforting to stretch out my leg and place my little toe against his flipper. This morning I awoke and as I gazed fondly at his giant feet I thought that I really should donate him to Ocean Park. They would probably feed him frequently and do better at entertaining him than I do. But I would miss him.
SB must have missed me because he was extra clingy in his sleep. I had to jab him awake a few times in the night with a plaintive, "Get offfff meeeeee!" I missed him also even though I am not as demonstrative. It was comforting to stretch out my leg and place my little toe against his flipper. This morning I awoke and as I gazed fondly at his giant feet I thought that I really should donate him to Ocean Park. They would probably feed him frequently and do better at entertaining him than I do. But I would miss him.
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