A few days ago I went to a toddler's birthday party.
If you know me at all, you know I'm not that into snotgoblins. But they emerged from a good friend of mine, so I thought I'd suck it up and take advantage of the chance to catch up with her, and perhaps get a slice of cake.
I spruced myself up a little, spent a full five minutes at the local gift shop finding something rugrat appropriate, and headed over.
So there we are, outside in the yard, balloons aloft and - thank God - margaritas for the folks who met the minimum height requirement.
I'd just put my paltry little gift on the table when some guests arrived bearing the children's party equivalent of a offering by the Magi - a Nieman Marcus box.
My friend duly opened it and oohed and aahed over the contents. There was a book with a padded cover, in bright colors. The story was about an elephant. And so the book came with a little soft toy.
It was a stylized elephant shape, the shape a child might draw, making a flattish plush toy, in bright fluffy fabric.
Now... you know those times where you do something stupid and your body is ahead of your brain?
It takes a moment for your brain to catch up and, by the time it has, your body is already engaged in idiocy, in full view of all those around you. All you can do in these situations is come up with some self-depricating humor to cover up.
And this is how I found myself next to my friend, squeezing the soft elephant with both hands, all over its little soft body, and sheepishly saying:
Oh, right! It's not a dog toy is it? I guess there's no squeaky!
To read more in this series, click here.
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