Banana Peels, Flash Backs and Chocolate Shavings

Count with me…H1, H2, H3

Did you ever wake up and ask yourself, “where did my ball go? It was right near my paw when I laid my head down. Did it roll somewhere?”

Then you lift your head, look down and see it….

“There it is. Next to my other paw.”

Or maybe instead of a ball, you wonder where is your squeaky toy? You know...the one that is shaped like an animal, that dares you constantly to tear its' limbs off and find that thing within that makes it squeak!

This is what happened to me. Just the other morning. I woke up, looked around, did not see my bright green bug eyed friend...and asked under my breath (as to not wake anyone,) “where is Hamilton?”

Side Kick and I picked Hamilton out together...at the ball and food store. Let me clarify to get it right. SK and I picked out the first Hamilton. H1. The next one...H2...who is missing in this story came later. After H1 disappeared, SK brought H2 home all excited. As SK removed the tags from H2, she excitedly talked about him to me, like I was a puppy. I was more excited about my SK being excited! Another turtle was great...don't get me wrong! But to see my SK's eyes light up like that....you should have seen it! Now THAT is something to live for.

H2 was a nice replacement. A little different look in the eye. A bit more mischievous in nature.

So anyway, I'm laying there, looking around for H2, trying to remember if I brought him to bed with me or not. Not being able to remember for sure, I get myself up. This is difficult because it is early and my SK is still sleeping. All cozy and warm under the covers. Snoring a bit too....although she would hate for anyone to know that. So don't tell anyone.

I get up. Quietly exit the room. I walk. Walk the perimeter of the house. I notice a bit of stuffing on the rug, near the front door. The stuffing, I remember. It is a result of a rather rumpus wrestling match that H2 and I had gotten in to the night before. Yes. The stuffing is lying there like a fluffy, white cloud. I smile. Good times. Good times.

So far, no sign of Hamilton himself. Suddenly an image flashes in my mind.. was that a limb of Hamilton being ripped from his body, thrown into the air and landing where I stand right now? Possibly. I do remember being near the front door during our wrestle.

Wait a minute.....I do remember something now. Standing here on the rug just in front of the door. Suddenly an image. H2's big eyes lookin' at me. His soft, furry body in my mouth. I drop him. He stares at me still. This time I step on his left back leg and .........

Yes, it all comes back to me. H2 and I wrestled indeed. And I won.

I walk through the kitchen. Into the hallway near the bathroom and that is when I remember. The TRASH CAN!

I turn around quickly making a second pass through the kitchen. The trash can looks to be nearly full. Because of my upbringing, I stand there. Looking into the trash can. I take a couple steps toward the can, peering closer and notice a better than good smell. Banana peel. Some chocolate shavings. Stinky vegetables that smell as though they were in the refrigerator too long. Some leftover chicken something that I do remember getting a taste of a few days ago.

I can not see past the chicken. I lean in further and with my teeth begin to carefully remove the contents of the can. Purely for research purposes only. If some food item happens to stick in my teeth and I happen to swallow, then so be it. This is all for the greater cause of finding Hamilton. Possible ingesting of old, thrown away food, I just chalk it up to the hazards of research.

Banana peel, yummy. Mmmmm a few chocolate shavings stuck to the peel! That is some good stuff right there.

And there he is. Hamilton. My big, bright green stuffed turtle head. The big happy smiley face. Some detached green and fluffy white pieces. I lean in to rescue him from the horridness that is the trash can. Just then, I hear the bedroom door open.

My SK is standing at the other end of the hallway. Just looking at me.

The missing details of the previous night come flooding back to me. What began with jovality, ended in limbs being tossed, stuffing flying through the air. You can call it what you want. I see it as a good friendship ending in typical dog/stuffed animal fashion.

My SK is still standing there. She's not mad. I can tell. She rarely gets mad.

We stare at each other. I lick my mouth and taste the banana. SK shakes her head and slowly, she walks toward me.

The next day, SK came home with H3.