Tom Hardy, Fluffy Rabbits, and an Awkward Silence
It's early morning, the tiniest shards of sunlight are peeking through my bedroom window and I'm burrowing under bedcovers, trying to recall that sassy dream about Tom Hardy. You know, the one where he's half-dressed in his fireman kit, carrying a kitten in one hand; a martini in the other? Ah, yes, there it is... I drift off into fireman paradise for a while longer until I feel the presence of someone else, lurking near the doorway.
From the depths of darkness, a small shadowy figure appears muttering something about rabbits, and I wonder if my subconscious has crossed over into Donny Darko land. Suddenly, the shadow pounces, landing heavily on my bed, - only it's not a giant blue rabbit, it's a small tiger. Scribe Junior, and he has a book in hand, his face serious. He's on a mission.
Scribe Junior: Mummy, what's this book about?
SJ: *shoves book at my pillow* This BOOK!
Me: Ouch. That hurt.
SJ: I want you to tell me about this book.
Me: Wha-aat? Eh... no, no, still sleeping... *mutters to self, where's Tom?*
SJ: *shakes me, does a couple more tiger rolls around the bed* MUMMMMEEEE
Me: C, it's waaa-aaaay...too early. I'm still sleeping... come back later.
SJ: But Mummy, why is this rabbit doing this? *points to picture of rabbit in toaster*
Me: Oh.. OH. *grabs book* Nothing... he's just playing a joke.
SJ: No, he's not.
Me: Yes, yes, he is. It's just pretend.
SJ: But what is this book about?
Me: Um, er... it's about....
SJ: It's about fluffy rabbits who don't want to live anymore.
Me: *startled look, sits upright* WHO told you that?
SJ: No one, I just read it. And it says so, -there. *points to cover*
Me: *awkward silence* Oh! I forgot, you can read now...
SJ: *smiles proudly*
Me: Shall we get breakfast now?
Photo via yours truly