The Dinosaur and the Llama

When I was three, I broke my elbow.  Without getting into too many details that will irritate me all over again, even 35 years later, I was forcibly thrown off the monkey bars at my daycare by a little girl.  It's actually quite surprising that this early traumatic experience didn't turn me away from girls completely, but they are too adorable to stay mad at for long.  That is in a general sense, because I'm still mad at the one that threw me off the monkey bars.

When I was in the hospital getting my cast put on, my father brought me a stuffed brontosaurus to make me feel better.  I instantly loved that little, brown, furry doll; and with my extensive creativity, I named him Dino.  I carried that thing around everywhere I went.  He was my constant companion.  Due to the fact that my hands were so small, I gripped him by his neck...which after a few years, meant the stuffing parted ways, his neck became limp, and his head flopped to the side.  I didn't care.  I still loved him.

So, when it came time to think about the perfect stuffed animal for my son, I wanted something comparable.  Something that he would cherish as much as I cherished that stuffed dinosaur.  So, I got him a llama...long neck and all.  Now, he will have the opportunity to drag that little llama around by his neck until the stuffing parts ways and his head flops to the side.  Like father, like son.