I have a collection of stone animals.
It sounds like some sort of admission that I might make to a 12-step program, and really it isn’t. My grandmother gave me a stone bear before she died, and since then I have occasionally gotten more.
Margaret loves to take these out of the cabinet and play with them (though she’s not allowed to play with the bear, because the bear is “pashal [special].”
You might not think that stone animals are cuddly, but they are.
Tonight, she paid especial attention to the wolf.
Leo and I demonstrated how wolves howl, but she remained skeptical.
I think she may be on to us. I mean, we usually tell the truth, but sometimes we enjoy telling her tall tales. This wasn’t one of the times, but she appears to have started to watch for it.