When you make dolls and other things, you get into the habit of carrying around parts. I keep heads with me to match fabric to eyes, or hands with me to get the right proportions for accessories or beads. Today when I was reaching into my bag to get some Coke money for the vending machine, I pulled out 1 quarter and 4 different heads.. Ooops, that’s where they went. Well, now I have plans for my weekend. Poor Phil regularly has dinner surrounded by what may look like a less gory CSI episode. Hands, legs, feet… everywhere. At first he was a little unhappy about sharing his place at the table with random ears, but I think he has gotten used to the idea.. or at least tolerant. He has stopped asking what I am baking because, I think, he wants to avoid the disappointment of having the answer be little people parts.. He used to always hope for cinnamon rolls… a dream crushed one Saturday in the fall when I was in heavy Nativity scene mode… I was aging with cinnamon and he came running into the kitchen asking if I was making cinnamon rolls, I said, “No, Jesus”. At that point, I think he realized the over wasn’t for food anymore.
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