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The Fall of Mr. Penguin

Posted November 5, 2007

Tonight's gore has a basis in Guster's rather bad allergies, believe it or not.

Most nights and mornings for Gus are quite stuffy and sneezy. We don't know exactly why. Perhaps it's due to the fact that A) I suffer from various allergies and he probably gets them from me, and B) our house is extremely dusty.

Gus' latest favorite game is to play Pile the Stuffed Animals. This might also be called Bury Yourself in Dustmites. He takes all of his furry friends and piles them on top of himself in his bed and asks, "Where's Gus?" Not surprisingly, the sneezing and runny nose starts soon after.

I've learned that you should put your pillows in the dryer once a week to kill the dustmites (gag) and help to reduce allergic reactions caused by dust. So I thought, why not put Guster's stuffed animals in the dryer for a minute or two?

Gus wasn't a fan.

I explained to him what we wanted to do and he started to cry.

"I want them," he wailed. "I don't want them to go to the wash-down!"

I had likened what we were doing to Thomas the Tank Engine and his friends going to the wash-down, something he loves to watch on his DVD.

"But they're all dusty and dirty and need to get cleaned up. They're really excited about it, babe. Look at the elephant," I said, holding up a smiling purple elephant with a musical rattle inside. "He's really fired up about the wash-down, man!"

Mass hysteria.

"But I want them!" he wailed, tears and snot starting to flow.

I finally got him to help me move his friends, one by one, from the toy box into the laundry basket. You'd think they were on the way to the gallows, for Pete's sake. I kept consoling Gus, insisting that all would be just fine.

So Rick carried a wailing Gus to the laundry room to watch me put his friends into the dryer. Elephant...Kevin the bear...Jimmy the other bear...Chucky the Chucky Cheese mouse...the Star-Bellied Sneetch from my mother. I got to the bottom of the basket and the last friend, Mr. Mechanical Walking Penguin, was laying all forlorn like a total reject. I left him in there as he has batteries and I didn't think he'd be a good candidate for the wash-down.

"Here we go!" I said, shutting the door and starting their own private Whirl-A-Puke.

"No, no, you forgot penguin!" Gus said, pointing to his friend.

I looked at Rick. He shrugged. In went Mr. Penguin.

We only had it running for a couple of minutes before I announced that spintime was over. I opened the door and a plastic piece clinked into the waiting basket below.

Not a good sign.

"Come on out, guys!" I said, taking them back out one by one. I almost had everyone out when Mr. Penguin fell out, a plastic stump where his right foot had been.

Oh, crap.

I started to laugh. I couldn't help it. Gus didn't see it, though, as the amputated foot tumbled out.

Mr. Penguin is now sitting on top of the garbage, which I need to take out before Gus discovers the carnage.

How tragic an end for Mr. Penguin. May he rest in peace.

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