I'm getting in just under the wire, but this week's contest's subject was/is 'Pets'.
Now I could do the standard shot of my cats or turtle, and I have at times, but that really kind of bores me. Besides, Angelcakes was only recently featured, so I figure we're good on that stuff.
Instead, let me introduce you to her 'pet' Princess and tell you her story.
Last Saturday Lisa and I took the two oldest kids roller skating, the first time we actually managed to skate through an entire 2 hour session. The rink is located right next door to a busy Goodwill Store, and I had a hankering to look around. I asked my wife if she wanted to go check it out.
"What's my budget?" she said.
"I don't know," I said. "I just want to loitter for awhile. . .say . . 10 -12 bucks?"
"Deal!" she said.
The total wound up at $23.00.
Sometime during this excursion YaYa saw the Ty brand cat pictured above, literally from across the room, and asked her Mom if she could have it. The price? A mere 49 cents. Sold!
[Irrelevant detail: She also picked out a huge overstuffed cat for Lu. She's becoming a pretty good shopper, a truly useful skill in this civilization.]
We took the purchases home and the kids were eager to take the animals to bed with them.
This is when my Mom's DNA kicked in. Irrationally worried about lice, chiggers, roaches, termite eggs, ticks, and all manner of germs, I denied the request until I had a chance to throw them in the wash.
"No Daddy!" YaYa begged. "Don't put it in thewash! Please!"
I shrugged her off without hesitation. To be honest, I don't even remember what the dang animals looked like. It was grab 'em from the bag, toss 'em in the washer, fughetaboutit.
So come bedtime, with Lisa at work, I cheerfully took the animals to the girls . . and YaYa screamed.
This is what Princess looked like:
Maybe this one show's it in a better light . .
Oh. Uh, yeah, no, I guess it looks bad no matter what.
"She had long hair!," she said."Now she looks like a lamb!"
"No, she doesn't," I argued, alarmed that I'd somehow managed to screw this up, "She looks like a very pretty little shee- er, cat"
Ugh. Even my unconscious betrayed me.
But the pics don't show the worst of it, because I spent a good half an hour combing and blowdrying and combing it again and again until the curls were loosened to some extent.
After all this work I called YaYa downstairs and proudly presented her the cat. Remember, I didn't remember what the stuffed animal looked like. I thought YaYa was being overly dramatic and that my efforts had more than solved the problem.
She came down and took the cat in her arms. She wiped away her tears with her forearm and smiled at me with a big gap-toothed grin.
"Thanks Daddy," she said. "Now I think I'm going to change her name, from Princess ..",
At this point her eyes filled with rage and her face twisted up and began to shake.
" . . to Looks-horrible-and-is-going-in-the-trash!"
And she threw it down.
Oh man was I ticked. "You don't appreciate anything I do for you! I took you skating, I strapped on roller skates, I bought you the cat and I just wasted half my evening combing that thing, and for what? So you can call me a bad Dad?"
"You're not a bad Dad" she said, not at all impressed by myanger. "But you screwed it up. She was special and you ruined her. I told you not to put her in the wash, I told you! I told you!"
"Excuse me for not taking laundry advice from my six year old!" I replied.
At that point some physical seperation was needed and I sent her upstairs. I calmed down, pretty wracked with guilt, and combed it out some more, to the point it appears above.
I took it upstairs, we both apologized - me willingly, YaYa after being coerced - and she tied a ribbon around its head.
"It's kind of pretty," she said, and contemplated it for a minute. "Yeah, I think she still looks like a princess".
And sure enough, when I recapped the story for Lisa after work and went to show her the cat, it was tucked snuggly into her sleeping arms.
"Told you you shouldn't have washed it," Lisa said.
*&@#&
* * * * * * * *
Here's some pics of YaYa with Princess. The makeup is from a (authorized) raid into her Mom's old stash, not prep for a beauty pageant.
Here are my two oldest with their new 'pets'.
And LuLu alone with hers. Please note that despite appearances she wasn't the least bit angry/annoyed/tired. She's just got this odd 'supermodel sulk' idea stuck in her head.
