Mad Cows

The Build-a-Bear store is one of The Little One's favorite places. If you don't have one of these, let me explain. Kids can go there and create their own stuffed animal. They get to print up a "birth certificate" for their new baby. Then, and this is where they get you, the kid picks out an outfit for their new creation. You see, these stores have outfits for every occasion, every profession, every game, etc. There are pajamas and robes, foul weather gear, even shoes and slippers. There is no end to the outfits that you can purchase, not inexpensively either, for your stuffed animal.

Over the last year or so, The Little One has built 2 cows. She calls them "The Moos," as in Mr. & Mrs. Moo. The Moos are a rather active couple. They were married in a ceremony (and expensive wedding dress and tux) complete with a marriage certificate created by The Little One. The Moos are also soccer players and of course soccer players must have a uniform (little Moo cleats are not cheap). They have a red union suit for pajamas. Casual clothes consist of jean shorts and baseball t-shirts (mini sketchers tennis shoes aren't free either). We have a Moo size soccer net and soccer ball, a Moo size skateboard and Moo furniture. I don't think I will offend him when I tell you Mr. Moo prefers boxers to briefs. Now let me stop for a minute to let you know that it is not C. and I alone that purchase these things. Other family members encourage her with gift certificates. The Little One will spend her own money on the Moos as well. She's always on the look out for anything she can use in "Moo world." Her birthday money was spent last week on Halloween costumes. Mrs. Moo is a witch, while Mr. Moo is a devil.

A few months ago Mr. Moo started appearing in a basket, his head wrapped in an ace bandage, covered in band-aids and his leg in traction. Obviously something terrible had happened. I asked The Little One what the deal was and she informed me that Mr. Moo had been struck down with Mad Cow Disease. Mr. Moo passed away, plunging Mrs. Moo into mourning. Luckily, though, I was able to give Mr. Moo CPR and bring him back to life. Good thing, as I can't imagine how expensive a black funeral dress and a proper burial suit might be.

Further heroic medical efforts are no longer required of me. This weekend The Little One went to the birthday party of a friend that was held at - you guessed it - Build-a-Bear. She came home with a bear this time, dressed in a doctor's coat and carrying his own stethoscope. His name is Dr. Snuggles and he has been charged with maintaining the health of the Moos. You can't beat a live in doctor if you're prone to Mad Cow I suppose. The Little One is not, however, taking any chances. This weekend she drew up the last will and testament of Mr. Moo. What follows is the document in its entirety (spelled as it appears, I'll try and translate the more creative spellings):

If I die, I want to be bared (buried) not cremated. And if I'm on mashens (machines) don't keep me on them. I want to die natraly. All my belongings to Mrs. Moo. If shes deid I want them to go to my mom The Little One (her complete name is spelled out). And ill be in a better plase. I'll always love Mrs. Moo. And tell my doctor he was the most greatest and best doctor I ever had. And can you please tell him that. Tell him I would tell him persenoly (personally) but of cours I can't...

(Signed) Mr. Moo
I'll always love Mrs. Moo.


Perhaps The Little One watches too much television.