Monday, March 28, 2011

The Tale of HarriEd

There once was a girl whose name was HarriEd.  She was a very busy little girl who liked to scoot around on the floor, pick things up, study them for a moment, and then stick them in her mouth.  There were other times of the day when she liked to stick other things in her mouth that were actually appropriate for consumption.

Sometimes HarriEd went outside.  This location afforded even more interesting sights, smells, and textures.  Small sticks, grass, and dried leaves were assailed by her dexterous little fingers.  Only a passing squirrel or robin could distract her from her task of evaluating and eating.

Then at other times, HarriEd's mommy let her play on the kitchen floor with such exciting things as plastic containers.  These were fun to bang on the floor and unload from the cupboard, but they paled in comparison to teensy weensy sweet potato muffin crumbs that were hiding under her highchair.  Her mommy came to remove such minute specimens, and HarriEd happily scooted away to find her next adventure.

When not eating, HarriEd liked to tell stories.  She told stories about kitties, and babies, and daddies.  She also read stories.  She read Goodnight Moon and The Runaway Bunny and Barnyard Dance.  She also read Cat the Cat and all of the other Little Golden books on the revolving rack at Borders.

HarriEd liked to go to church.  At church she got to spend time with people besides her mommy and daddy, which usually resulted in lots of attention directed toward the cuteness of her person.  This she enjoyed very much, along with singing loudly and pulling herself up on the pew to talk loudly to the person behind her during the sermon.  All of this attention was almost as exciting as looking at pictures of herself on the computer - which became a nightly ritual.

And so HarriEd lived a happy life marred only by the occasional diaper rash, the infrequent absence of her mother and the inability to slobber on the xbox controller.

The End.