This morning when I came downstairs to write, I was surprised to see my toys had emptied my bookcase and were reading a book. The Lion, Larry, and the giraffe, tiger, leopard and elephant were reading , The Pony Express by Steven Kroll. I wonder if they want to try and deliver mail? Maybe if I come downstairs tonight, I can catch them alive, and ask them.
Last night I completely forgot about my toys coming alive. When I was pruning my bushes I held one end of the pruners against my chest and pulled as hard as I could. The branch was cut, and I thought I broke my rib.
Last night I was positive a rib was floating around in my chest. I felt like a cow had stepped on me. Not that I have ever had a cow step on me, but I think that is what it would feel like. My friend took me to get x-rays, but there was nothing floating, just a bad bruise.
So this morning as I rolled out of bed, literally, I couldn’t sit up, I was slightly discouraged by how much my ribs hurt. But when I came downstairs, I had to smile.
There is magic in December. And no amount of pruning or bruising will take away the joy of toys coming alive.
I wonder what the toys will do tonight? Do you have any ideas? Please tell me in the comments.
