Giraffes I Have Known

This, I think, would be a good title for Margaret's* memoir.  (Of course she's contemplating writing a memoir - it's been almost six months.  The slightly tricky part is that she can't write.  Or read.  Or talk.  So she'll need a ghost writer, but these are little, piddling details that can be worked out by underlings in due course.  Her people will talk to someone's people and so forth.  Things will be arranged.)

When you think about it, there's been Slightly Terrifying Giraffe, who watched over tummy time with his frighteningly slow head turns.

(See, there's his nose, just in the front of the picture.  Any more, and we'd all run screaming).

There has also been the nice teak (I think) giraffe Leo's cousin Julie sent Margaret after one of her periodic jaunts to Africa.  The one that made Margaret learn to roll over.

And not we have Regrettably Needy Onesie Giraffe.***

A onesie giraffe ought to have more self-respect, don't you think?  I mean, I'm sure that we all would love him once we got to know him, but he's just pathetically begging for us to love him.  Poor giraffe.  His parents should have done a better job.

*I think that she has become Margaret.  She just is Margaret, not any of the nicknames,** and I've just accepted that.  Although this typing out of Margaret is going to substantially increase the amount of time I have to spend writing these things. 

**Well, she is some nicknames, but I don't think that I'm going to start writing about her as Honey (which is actually, when I say it, written Hunny) or the frequently used diminutive of Hunny, Hunlet.  This one I like because it conjures up small, century-old Germans out to destroy civilization.  Very cute.

***For those of you playing at home, this is the second incarnation of RNOG.  He comes in a multi-pack of safari-themed onesies, and M has had them in several sizes by now.