It had been sitting on Kellyn's dresser, but she apparently decided to climb up and play with it. Somehow in the process this poor shepherd was decapitated. I wasn't upset about it for three reasons. The first being, a little superglue will attach that head back on like new. The second being, I am not a huge fan of figurines. And the third, that decapitated shepherd boy reminds me of my brother.
All of my life, especially when I was younger I have been bestowed with a large number of figurines. I haven't been particularly attached to any of them and only a few Precious Moments figurines have survived into my adulthood. There are two reasons figurines met their demise while I was growing up: my younger brother and my older brother.
The first test of a figurine was if it could make it through my younger brother's toddlerhood. He's eight years younger than I am and would frequently enter my room and break things. Not on purpose, but because he was young and inquisitive like Kellyn with grabby fingers. (But then I think grabby fingers are a toddler prerequisite.) If any of the figurines made it through this trial, whether in one piece or hanging on with super glue then they transitioned into the second phase. None of them made it through the second phase.
The second test involved two delinquent teenagers whose mother was in nursing school. My older brother and I were often bored and seeking ways to entertain ourselves. One of our favorite pastimes was to take whatever figurine, vase or knickknack that I really didn't like and throw it out the window. If it broke then we would move on to the next victim. If it didn't break then one of us, usually me because I was smaller, would climb out of the window to retrieve the item only to throw it back out the window until it broke. We spent many afternoons entertaining ourselves like this.
That is why I wasn't upset about a decapitated figurine. In a perverse way, that decapitated shepherd boy reminds me of some good times with my brother.
No comments:
Post a Comment