At the end of December, I was fortunate to be able to go on vacation with my husband, my sister, my nephew, my husband's brother, my husband's brother's wife, and his niece. The mispokha converged on the Los Angeles area for six days of fun. We spent one of those days at Noah's Ark, which sounds like a horrendous religious zealot place, but was actually a phenomenal exhibit of 350 animals made from various materials, climbing opportunities, and all sorts of other neat things. (The theme is making the world a better place.) As we entered the exhibit, we passed through the gift shop. These adorable little plush possums, hanging from their tails, immediately caught my eye. I thought they would make fun souvenirs for the kids (plus one for my nephew's friend), and planned to buy them on my way out. And of course, one for me, because damn it, they are so stupid cute!!!
As you can see from the picture, I only bought three. This was because they were offensively expensive at $9.79 each. (Although the next week, while I was in Berlin, these seemed a relative bargain compared to the plush possum I saw at a department store for 19.99 euros.) It seemed not right to buy one for myself, although I was very sad about it. Still, I was super excited to present them to the kiddies. I mean, seriously, they are fucking adorable. Who wouldn't be excited to have a plush possum you can hang by its tail and use as a finger puppet?
After telling all of this to my sister, she looked at me with concern. "You are going to be one of those creepy cat ladies when you get old, except that you don't really like live cats, you like stuffed animals. Your house is going to be filled with stuffed animals that you talk to, sit at the table with you, and watch TV with, and all of the kids in the neighborhood will find you weird."
We looked at each other. Since it is totally true (please, I'm halfway there already), we burst out laughing.