Alas, gentle readers, I am somewhat weary this evening. I had too many meetings. Meetings upon meetings.
And now, instead of having some kind of alcoholic beverage and a hot bath, I had a stimulating cup of tea, which means that I am still achingly tired but completely unable to fall asleep. So I turned to the google, my sleepless companion, and did a search for unusual gift ideas because, if you haven't noticed, 'tis the frakking season.
Here is what I found: <http://www.uncommongoods.com/product/reproductive-plush-organs>. Yes, someone has designed and is selling plush toys shaped like reproductive organs.
Naturally, I had to show them to Mom, and we got into a friendly argument about which is cuter, the plush ovary or the plush testicle. And then we got into an unfriendly argument about me waking her up from a dead sleep to show her plush toys shaped like reproductive organs.
We've agreed that I won't do that again, and she will not beat me to death with her pink cane.
Nevertheless, I am inspired by these adorable stuffed, um, toys, which are clearly meant to assist parents or teachers when introducing the concept of human reproduction to three-year olds. And I'll bet it works, too. Which would you rather enjoy? Another Afterschool Special filmed in the nineteen seventies or a plush mammary that you can squeeze without embarrassment? Not much of a contest, is it?
Anyway, I'm thinking about buying a set of them for Christmas and taking them to my next meeting. Then, when someone says something with which I disagree, I can wave a little green prostate in the air and say, "Wait! I was distracted by the smile on this little green prostate. Could you repeat that?" And, of course, no one will be able to repeat anything when someone is waving a plush green prostate in the air, and when everyone turns to look at it, I will bean someone in the face with the purple ovary and say, "Oh no! I hate it when my ovary starts attacking people! I move that we declare the purple ovary out of order!"
And then it will be stuffed testicles flying here and there and everywhere, and we will have to adjourn for soothing drinks, and, most importantly, no one will ever ask me to go to another meeting again.