So, yesterday, freezing cold, wind gusting somewhere around 20 mph and I'm having my breath sucked from my body by the wind while trying to load the minivan with our weekly rations. I'm really building up the cold here for no good reason, and it's making me laugh a little after talking with relatives in New Hampshire about the storm they just had with around 70 mph wind and 2-3 feet of snow! I'm such a wimp! But, a wimp that was out in the cold on this grocery day, which leads to my story about a little Happy.
I arrived home to my husband, who was four days post knee surgery, opening the door to greet our children, and hold the door open for Gram, telling me he wishes so much he could help. After about five trips in with three to four bags per hand...hands that are now white due to lack of blood flow and freezing temps, he says, "Here baby, let me turn on the fireplace for you! Come warm your hands." Appreciating the gesture, with my now, solid white and mostly numb hands, I made my last two trips then walked over to warm my insides and extremities by our instantly warm gas fireplace.
Immediately, I was met with an odor I have never noticed and a flame in the back that looked more like a 'real' flame then a gas induced one. I hollered at Scott and noticed black puffs as I did....something had been thrown in the fireplace, no doubt by one of the four, and most likely, by the three year old watching us move with a little panic. I turned it off then Scott, lowering to the floor as fast as his wounded knee would allow, blew out the 'real' fire. The questioning began while windows were being flung open because that toxic odor I smelled was now rapidly filling our home.
Elijah calmly informed us that he had thrown his brother's Happy in there because Daisy bit it and broke it. Background....Daisy is our, almost, two year old golden retriever who, no doubt, bit and broke a toy, as this is her usual routine upon entering a living room that has toys left on the floor. Happy. This is Elijah's Happy.....
I don't believe I have a picture of Timothy's but you get the idea...it's a little plastic guy that Elijah named "Happy" when he was first learning to talk. Timothy had one with a green hat that he said was his Happy and sometime this weekend, green hat Happy was bit, broke and disposed of in the fireplace by a little man who knew no better. Now, here we are explaining the right method of disposal of broken toys, trying to dig out a charred Happy from the back of the fireplace, fan out black smoke and rid our house of toxic fumes. I guess my hands were better...somewhere in all this, I forgot they were cold!
This story concludes with a sobbing, devastated Timothy last night in the shower proclaiming his love of the little plastic toy, when upon remembering the tragic events, Elijah ran to the bathroom to tell Timothy his green hat Happy had been bit, broke, burned in the fire and finally, thrown in the trash. The emotions of a six year old....that's a whole other story!
Thanks Daisy, for triggering the devastating ending to a little Happy. We still love you puppy. :)