A duck named Picasso

Taylor must have 100 little animals, or stuffed animals.  They really are her passion, she carries them around, everywhere, she feeds them, nurses them back to health, and literally plays with them constantly...which is why I have a hard time figuring out WHY she needs to play with one of my very few breakable items in the house...this breakable happens to be a duck.  She has been told to leave him alone before, with a complete explanation of "why" she cannot play with him...he is breakable. 

While making dinner, there was a LOUD bang, Blake and I both headed toward Taylor and from where the sound had come, they were both in the same place, go figure!  There stood Taylor above a pile of broken duck pieces.  I could "feel" the words come out of my mouth before they even got there, " Taylor, THIS is why I told you NOT to play with this duck!!!"  BUT...I somehow stopped them before they escaped...I "bit my tongue" so to speak.  I could see that the words I wanted to say were not needed...she stood there, devastated and already sorry.  She was probably more upset with herself than I was. 

Without saying a word, I grabbed some super glue.  I invited both kids to help fix the duck.  We all sat in the middle of the front room floor, next to a pile of broken duck pieces and started gluing him back together.  His beak is now crooked, one leg is shorter, but he still stands.  We saved the duck together, then named him Picasso. 

at first she was sad...

now a happy duck saver!