As it turns out, just such an animal has been sitting there among my t-shirts and sweaters since the half-price clearance sales after Valentine's Day. Sporting a stuffed heart that said "Kiss Me," he was about to be raffled at the February fundraiser for my local writers' group.
However, this year Beenie's Christmas wish list necessitated an abrupt change of plans. The only things he wanted from Santa, he said, were a taxi cab, a trumpet, and--you guessed it--a yellow giraffe. (As you can see, Beenie has rather eclectic tastes.)
Beenie's mama looked to Amazon for the first two items, but, alas, the third one proved more elusive. It seems a dearth of yellow giraffes had been manufactured at the North Pole this year. A day or two before Christmas, she mentioned this to me in passing.
"Well, actually," I said to her, "I think I may have a yellow giraffe." Later, I texted her a picture of it to see if she thought it might fill the bill. Luckily, she thought it was perfect.
I took another close look at Mr. Giraffe. He was the right color and the right size. He was appropriately soft and furry and cuddly. But there was something about the "Kiss Me" heart that just didn't seem quite right for a two-year-old.
Upon inspecting the heart more closely, I saw that it could be easily removed with three swipes of a seam ripper. Better yet, the surgery would leave no scars. The heart was only loosely tacked onto the giraffe's hands (Do giraffes have hands?) and tummy. Post-op, he looked totally suitable for our purposes:
So, in the spirit of happy Christmases, Beenie got his yellow giraffe and Pa-pa found this under his pillow that night:
And that is the story of how a $4 stuffed giraffe from the Big Lots store translated into a "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night."
BUT--if you are worried that my writers' group is without an animal to raffle this year, don't fret. You see, early last summer I was at a garage sale, and there in a basket of 25-cent items was this brand new stuffed Siberian tiger . . . .
