Just to clarify...

I'm called "Pat the Bunny"... not "Chew the Bunny". Could someone please explain the difference to Master W.?

I'm sick of the rain.

It's May. We live in California. Where's the sunshine?

Could someone please pass the steak sauce?

I love a good moose dinner.

Snack time!

Miss C. is so thoughtful. She left this delicious looking shoe laying out. I'm sure she wanted me to eat it.

Right?

We're in a rut.

What we wouldn't give to be made into a big bowl of salsa or even a pot of spaghetti sauce. Instead, we're forever being turned into tomato soup.

We're meant for so much more. BLT sandwiches, guacamole, pico de gallo... the possibilities are endless! But here we sit in our bowls, day after day.

Maybe someday things will change. A tomato can dream, right?

Yeah, she loves me.

Just look at what a mess she made out of my tray. There's paint everywhere and I'm almost out of black.

Big messes mean big fun!

I was once a rock star.

They shot me into the air in the big finale of Mickey's parade at Disneyland. Now I'm just one of the guys, hanging out in the craft box waiting to be made into an art project.  Celebrity confetti one day, craft supply the next.

Isn't life crazy?

Disneyland is supposed to be the happiest place on earth.

Sitting here, squashed under the backpack, isn't exactly what I'd call good times.

Could somebody help me out? I heard Miss C.'s mama and daddy talking about going to see Mickey next. I was really hoping to meet him...

Isn't she thoughtful?

Miss C. thought her daddy could use a nice cup of milk while he paid the bills today. I've always known she's a smart cookie. After all, she knows I'm the best drink in the play kitchen... far superior to that upstart orange juice that's been lurking about lately. 

I'm all set.

Clothes? Check.

Car seat? Check.

Seat belt securely fastened? Check.

Let's roll.