Zoë called me this morning.
Yeah! I love hearing her voice.
I answer the phone and I am greeted with sobs…choking, gasping sobs.
Oh dear. I wish she didn’t live so far from me. She needs me and I am here, under the Big Top and she is down in LA.
She continues to cry and sob over the phone because her best friend, her very first friend was attacked by her puppy.
Yes, I started to cry too because I know what this little Puffalump means to my daughter. I know of all the adventures and misadventures and close calls these two have been through. I know that know matter how grown up and independent she might be, sometimes she needs Squishy.
Here’s where I wish that Mommy Dearest had had the patience to teach me how to sew; or perhaps I had actually paid attention in Home Ec back in 8th grade and not let Mommy Dearest just take over my little sewing projects and do them for me.
Can she be fixed?
I just want to make this all better for Zoë because Squishy is so much more than an old, stuffed toy.