I let the boys watch the classic Star Trek episode which stars the blobby silicon based lifeform known as the Horta. Our house is forever changed. The boys play Hortas all day, they ask for pet Hortas…which I have to deny them since they are large and melt rock and occasionally kill bothersome humans …and aren’t actually real. Then I had to go online to look and see if anyone has made a stuffed Horta that they might request for Christmas. No stuffed Hortas, but one can purchase a plastic Horta with Spock doing a mind meld upon it and one might also decorate ones car like a Horta and drive it in a parade…just in case you were wanting to know.
At the renassiance fair Sweet Boy#2 and Sweet Boy#3 bring home flexible dragon hatchling toys. Sweet Boy#2 named his “Licorice” and Sweet Boy#3 named his “Dandilocks”.
There were howls of horror in our house this week. They did not come from the dog, although they did concern the dog. Sweet Boy#3 had been working on a puzzle of the 50 states for 2 days. He was almost done. Then our elderly Newfoundland dog Shamu hobbled up the stairs looking for a nice place to lie down. He spotted the puzzle which was lying on a board in the corner of the room. He ambled over, stood above the puzzle like Godzilla looming over a Tokyo skyscraper, and then proceeded to scratch up the puzzle to fluff it up for his nap. The screams of righteous anger that filled the room did not phase our ancient hound, he plopped his 150 pound body directly on top of the puzzle and gave a sigh of contentment. Perfect. The boys did not agree, but they couldn’t move him so puzzle time was supplanted by doggy naptime.