So, I walk into the living room the other day and the girls are playing Uno. There are Uno cards scattered around on the floor in messy piles in the middle of a circle of not only Imogen and Genevieve but the three miniature stuffed animals that Genevieve calls her "kids". A little pink pig, a little pink bunny and the "red-head stepchild" of the group, a little gray elephant.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Playing Uno," Imogen answers.
"Why do you have so many cards out?"
"Because Genevieve's kids are playing too," Imogen answers.
I watched them go around the circle, playing a card for each stuffed animal. They speak for the animals in squeeky voices replying in their normal voices.
Genevieve sleeps with these animals, reminding me of my little sister who used to sleep with so many stuffed animals, you couldn't see the bed around her and you had a hard time piling them all on so that they wouldn't fall off. At least Genevieve's addiction hasn't reached such a critical stage.
1 comment:
That is actually a pretty good picture of you. You should think of that thing more often.
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