Friday, May 09, 2008

Platypus Studies

Hi. I read the newspaper this afternoon. I liked this article. I like articles about Platypuses. If went to school, I'd major in Platypus studies. I learned a lot about myself from this article.
  • I am only 82% mammal. I don't know what the other 18% is. Maybe reptile. I like the Gecko who sells insurance. He seems nice.


  • I have a strong sense of smell. I knew that already. Our whole house smells of diapers. Always. We live in a stinky house.


  • I can detect electric fields with my bill. I'm not quite sure what that means, but it sounds neat. Are electric fields where they grow light bulbs?


  • I make venom. That makes me dangerous. Maybe this is why women like me. Buffy says I need a leather jacket to complete the look.


  • I don't have nipples. Teddy bears don't pay much attention to anatomy. But this fact might be useful some day. Maybe someone will need a nipple transplant. I won't be able to help, so I shouldn't volunteer.


  • People thought platypuses were a joke at first. But they were wrong.

I am not a joke. I am a platypus. I am a dangerous, electric field sensing, leather jacket wearing, nipple-less heart throb.

The kid knows my name

Hi there. I am a multi-faceted bear. I'm suave, debonaire and a bon vivant. I'm also a big old softy and a sucker for a cute kid. Right now, I'm over the moon because Ricky knows my name. Yeah, he does. I'm not kidding. He says "Goofball!" and gives me a big hug. I like it when he buries his face in my belly.

Wagsy: (giggle)

And I have my own song. When Ricky hears Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World" he calls "Goofball!" and we waltz. Ah, shucks. I know it sounds corny, but it is really sweet. And it is an honor to have such a classic known as "Goofball song."

Wagsy: (giggle)

What is so funny, Wagsy?

Wagsy: Um ... nothing.

Come on, out with it dog. What are you laughing about?

Wagsy: Um ... Ricky doesn't say "Goofball."

Sure he does. He knows my name. "Goofball dance." "Goofball sleep."

Wagsy: He says (giggle) ... um ... he calls you ... (giggle) ... Boopball!

No he doesn't. He calls me Goofball.

Wagsy: Yeah, yeah, he calls you Boopball.

Okay he's not even two yet. Not every word is going to sound just right. I know what he means. Boop means Goof.

Wagsy: Um ... it also means ... um ... um ... poo.

No. No, it doesn't.

Wagsy: Yeah, yeah, it does. Ricky "boops" in his diaper.

That can't be right. I refuse to believe that Ricky associates me with feces.

Wagsy: Um ... I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news.

No you're not. You think this is funny. Admit it.

Wagsy: Um ... I think this is hilarious.

Ugh. ... Huh. ... Way to ruin my mood, Wagsy. Equating my name to poo kinda takes the sheen off "my trees of green and red roses, too." ... Phooey.

Pudgie: Hi, Goofball. I couldn't help but over hearing your conversation with Wagsy.

What you want to make fun of me, too? Go ahead. Yuck it up at my expense. Laugh at the Goofball.

Pudgie: No. I thought I would offer an alternative interpretation of the young Ricky's vocabulary. Boop means more than one thing in Ricky's lexicon.

Wagsy: Shhh. Shhh. Don't tell him, Pudgie.

Don't tell me what? Out with it, professor!

Pudgie: Boop also means kiss.

Really? You're not just saying that.

Pudgie: My careful observations of Ricky's language development leads me to believe that boop can mean either osculation or excrement depending upon the context. And you are always the referent to the word Boopball.

Wow. That is pretty cool, man.

Wagsy: Oooh, you told him.

And you knew this, Wagsy? Why did you try to bring me down?

Wagsy: Um ... I just thought it was funny that you were so excited about being called Boopball.

Well it is closer to Goofball than what he calls you ... Woo-hoo.

Wagsy: Oh, I like that name. Woo-hoo. And he smiles so sweetly when he says it.

I gotta say the little guy is pretty cute. I was a little suspicious of having him around at first, but now I like him.

Wagsy: Um ... I just wish he wouldn't jump up and down on me.

Yeah, that doesn't look good for the stitches.

Wagsy: Um ... it isn't so bad when I am on my back, but when I am snout down ... oooh ... the stuffing starts to suffer.