Squishy

I stopped on impulse at a Fred Meyers (think Target or WalMart, one of those stores that carries basically everything) with the idea of getting one of those coloring books that have intricate designs to fill in.  I looked through the entire store and found exactly one coloring book, one with fanciful, cartoony figures for kids.  But I bought it anyway because I think it might be relaxing sometime to sit and color, with nothing on my mind.

While I was there, I also bought myself a Squishy, which is a very soft stuffed toy about the size of a small pillow.  Mine is a bird in yellow and pale orange and green.  Bill says it's an angry bird based on the game Angry Birds, but I reject that connection.  My Squishy is happy and sweet.  I can imagine sitting on the couch holding it in my arms, sort of an upright cuddle.

I think it's time to get cats again.  I think my lap is feeling empty, and my hands are yearning for something soft to stroke.  Squishy will do in the meantime, and once we have cats again, Squishy will probably become a cat toy.