The dingo ate my baby.

I mean the dingo ate Rowlf.

I mean my mom's chihuahua chewed up my stuffed dog, Rowlf.

Go ahead, make fun if you want to. But Rowlf has been with me for 22 of my 24 years of life. He was with me when I got my first shot, he was with me when I came home from my first day of school, he was with me when I had the nightmares about the singing and dancing panther who wore a top hat, and he was with me when I took the book from the bookstore with the Auryn symbol on the cover...(wait, sorry that was a movie).

Poor Rowlf...I'll have to get out the mending supplies when I get home.


Wednesday, July 20, 2005 | 12:53 PM | LINK |