bad wife of the year award

Well I couldn't take it anymore. Pooh bear had adorned our mantle for long enough. If you aren't a frequent visitor of my blog, let me recap.

Pooh bear is Randy's childhood best friend. He loved, correction loves, this stuffed toy. Now this is coming from one of the most unsentimental people I know. Pooh bear was discovered this summer when cleaning out Randy's childhood home. Ever since these two have reunited, they have been inseparable. Pooh bear stares at us and all his scariness every day. He now lives on our mantle. I think it might be possessed. Do you need a reminder of what it look likes?





Eek, it like watches me whenever I walk by it. I'm terrified of Pooh. Can I admit that I think it looks a little possessed? Maybe deformed? Maybe not the best resident of our mantel?
So does it make me bad wife of the year by removing it from our mantel? Nope, because it's worse!

Besides I've tried to causally remove Pooh, and I got this, "What were you thinking? Pooh needs to be on the mantel."

Umm I was waiting for the "he's part of the family" comment.

So I know what you're going to think when I update you on Pooh's current status.

"Pooh murderer!"

Well, not exactly. I snuck Pooh upstairs because the phrase, "out of sight, out of mind" could work for me here.

Let's just say the responsibility definitely shifted from me to Mopac.

Since Pooh is so scruffy and dingy and since Mopac is so intelligent, she definitely made a logical connection... She thought it was her chew toy!

I'm telling you nothing gets by this dog. Well she found where I placed Pooh, and took it upon herself to finish him off. I came upstairs last night, and she was violently shaking Pooh like it was a t-bone steak. She was grunting, drooling, and pawing at his barely attached limbs. Granted, Pooh is used to this type of love and affection. If Pooh could talk I'm sure he was saying, "End this now, just go ahead. It's been 27 long years of pain and agony. Just look how I look. I'm as depressed as Eeyore."

Well Mopac is doggone lucky she has stolen her daddy's heart. He didn't even fuss at her. I managed to wrestle Pooh away in the nick of time. I know you're all very concerned of Pooh's health status, but we have not planned a proper burial service at the time. I think he's going to be fine. Heck, he might live for another 100 years. Shoot, he might reappear on our mantel as my punishment for my "reckless care with Pooh."

Ooops! (Nice try little Mo!)