I am getting ready for Henry’s 5th birthday. I wouldn’t say I’m feeling morose about it per se, but I keep thinking of a science fiction short story I read a long time ago where male children were taken away on their 5th birthdays and educated all in one single day by a brain implant sort of system, so that they returned at the end of that day fully adult, not needing their mothers, and chatting with their fathers about office stuff. No moroseness, though.
This year Henry claims to be done with dinosaurs. He likes knights, and he likes pirates.
And he likes walruses. This is not something I would have guessed about him. But a couple of months ago I was at Hallmark buying postcards to support my Postcrossing.org
addiction obsession issue hobby, and I walked down the clearance aisle, and I ended up with an impulse-buy walrus: a little beanie-baby-sized guy. I’d planned to put him in with a care package, but the minute I showed the walrus to Henry, Henry was squeezing it and cuddling it and wrapping it in a blankie and pretending to give it a bottle. So for his birthday, I got him a Cuddlekin Walrus (photo from Amazon.com). Cuddlekin is probably my top favorite stuffed animal line: they are not kidding one bit about the cuddliness. If the walrus not a hit with Henry, I’ll snuggle it myself.
My parents bought Henry the Melissa and Doug Pirate Chest (photo from Amazon.com), with extra coins. (My mom checked with me first, because she knows and I know that those coins are going to end up in every single corner and under every single piece of furniture in the house. I don’t mind. Treasure hunt! And it’s not as if all of those locations aren’t currently occupied by playing cards, paper clips, toys from gumball machines, toothpicks, checkers, rubber balls that got away, etc.)
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