LOVE ME, LOVE MY ARMADILLO
There will be a stuffed armadillo on my credenza.
At the moment she is ensconced under my computer desk at home, but nothing says warm nurturing environment for creative souls quite like a mummified dead armadillo.
She gets the mind juices flowing.
And keeps children at bay.
Yes, she's a she. I checked. She's only slightly bigger than the laptop on which this essay is being penned. Small, cute, and very personable.
She is my executive assistant. And like many men, my executive assistant understands me better than any wife, which I don't have.
I find my stuffed armadillo comforting.
She assures me all is well.
There is a clickable link called stuffed Armadillo under several essays on this blog, which pulls up everything so tagged. It's some of my more interesting writing.
The last entry was six years ago.
I had forgotten about that.
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