Little E is besotted with Spot (the dog) and all of his friends are popular too. By far her favourite is Spot's crocodilian companion, Tom. Recently we were on holiday in Balingup and happened to be in a shop where they had a basket of assorted small plastic animals for $1.95 each. Upon being presented with a kangaroo, wombat, koala and crocodile, E had no hesitation in choosing the crocodile, who she instantly named Tom. For some time now all crocodiles have been referred to as Tom, but I think this has really cemented it.
Tom watches E while she sits in her highchair and eats.
He has slides.
He jumps on the trampoline.
He goes swimming in the sink and in the bath.
And being less than two inches long, he regularly gets lost. About ten times a day Little E is to be found, wandering through the house, demanding "where Tom? Where Tom?" To which I invariably say "where did you see him last?" - to which she usually has no answer.
We've lost Tom for short periods before (which according to E is because "Tom run away! Tom run away!") but on Friday he disappeared and only made himself known again this afternoon. In the meantime we had purchased a replacement Tom for $2 from the Zoo shop (figuring he could be put away in case of later emergencies if original Tom turned up). It turned out that original Tom was having an adventure on the lawn by the lime tree, and I discovered him upon going to water the tomatoes that are next to it. E had seemed unconcerned when presented with replacement Tom, but upon realising original Tom was back she immediately started referring to original Tom as "better Tom." She couldn't tell us why he was better, but replacement Tom has been returned to his rightful place in the cupboard as emergency stock.
I wasn't altogether grateful for original Tom's Lazarus-like behaviuor, when less than an hour later E was loudly demanding "where Tom? Where Tom?" I certainly wasn't expecting the reply "in microwave!" (followed by delighted giggles) "Tom being silly!"
2 comments:
J is also very into ascribing character to toys. We've had assorted personalities whose needs must be met. The Very Hungry Caterpillar needed (toy) fruit salad for breakfast. Alfie-the-digger came on a few car trips, until he decided the grass was greener in the Dandenongs and jumped ship. Caterpillar, another digger, came to Fiji and was quite put out that his battery status meant that he couldn't dig on the beach. Stegosaurus needed teeth brushing....
The strangest part of the whole story is that M has never personified a toy. They are not real. It is ludicrous to pretend otherwise.
From my perspective, personified toys are quite handy. They don't like rough behaviour or dirty clothes left in bedrooms. They beg me to be relocated to a cupboard if J doesn't toe the appropriate-behaviour line.
I love your stories about E, she has such a brilliant little personality brewing there!
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