More crazy times in the playroom, this time with what seems to be some sort of crossbreeding tragedy that yielded a strange poodle/ladybug creature.
I'll have to talk to Small about being more careful with her animal husbandry.
And speaking of animal husbandry...
We're packing to move, and today, I began the process of sorting and packing Small's toys. We spent quite a while on stuffed animals, and she was quite willing to let some of them go, often for weird reasons like, "His feet are WAY too big." However, what struck me as really funny is how concerned she was about their social situations. Several times, she'd stop me from putting something in the box, until she'd run off to find one of the stuffed animal's friends or relations. "Wait!" she'd say, "His wife is upstairs!"
Well, we're not moving for three more weeks. He'd be awfully lonely all that time, stuck in a box with a lot of strangers, and not his wife! Nice of her to be considerate.