Sweetie Pie Turner here, again.
Amidala should be posting today, but MomGoth is here with Mom and me because of the snow. She came and spent Thursday night and stayed last night, too, just because it was easier (and safer) than walking back and forth in the snow. She’ll be going home today.
In case you don’t know, here is our family tree. I call her MomGoth because she helps Mom take care of me, and … well … she’s kind of Goth. Not to look at, but inside. Anyway, here we are.
So she was here, and she was poking around, because she says she’s always liked poking around, and look what she found!
It’s my Goonie Bird! It’s actually a stuffed Blue-Footed Booby that Mom got from the World Wildlife Fund. When I was a little kitten, I used to grab Mom’s stuffed animals and drag them to my water bowl and baptize them. This one was my favorite! Mom called it a Goonie Bird instead of a Booby, so that’s what I call it, too.
It was a moving reunion, but I don’t baptize things in my water dish anymore, I just drink out of it. So MomGoth put the Goonie Bird away. Maybe we’ll have another reunion another time.
A WRITING PROMPT FOR ANIMALS: What did you used to do when you were little that you don’t do anymore?
SPT
Jane
January 23, 2016 at 8:59amWhat a charming reunion!
Beware the Writing Prompt!
However, the first thing that sprang to mind was remembering when I cut my hair. I was about three, I was told. I recall sitting on a swing with the scissors and clipping from my bangs. (I think. It’s a bunch of decades ago, after all.)
I found the hair wisp, bundled up by a thread, in my Dad’s top drawer (oh, about one decade less ago). That was when I learned I had been born VERY blond, but had cycled into a brunette by about four.
Curiously, the last time I cut my hair in a state of naive innocence was about a year ago, when I was drunk off my rocker. The next morning, I found a large swath of hair in the basket and the hair scissors on the window sill nearby. I was a bit stunned for a moment, but then recalled I HAD been planning to whack off the split ends lately. Whew! Dodged a bullet there! The rest of the braid was still intact, just as normal as a…..er, how normal is a three foot long braid???
Marian Allen
January 23, 2016 at 12:08pmAs long as the braid is on your head, you’re cool. If it was under your arm, maybe not so much.
Girl, I totally need to try drunk-cutting my hair! Since cutting it sober looks like I cut it drunk, a drunk-cut could only be an improvement.
Shelly
January 23, 2016 at 1:29pmThat’s so funny!
I’ve drunk cut my husband’s hair before…. Not good! Lol, I cut my own hair too, I can’t imagine the job I’d do drunk.