just when you think you're sunk

My ship was boarded--I was sidled up to by a PIRATE.

The kind that takes no prisoners--leaves a wake of trouble in his path. The Captain was a full four years of determination and spunk.

And he was on a mission.

Arghh! He said, when he spotted me curled up in the corner and mumbling nonsensical things under my breath and looking glassy-eyed. What be your intent? I asked, in the gruffiest rumbly pirate voice I could find.

Ahoy matey, I want fluff, said he.

Fluff?

Aye, yeh scurvy dog. I be hungry. (is it lunchtime yet?)

Arghh yerself, I said. Fluff is not a healthy choice.

Okay, but how about fluff with hot chocolate? he bargained.

One of my gifts is to understand the need for sugar when it presents itself. And chocolate.

And I'm happy this little pirate ransacked my family room, and basement, and pretty much whatever fell into his path today, and busied himself (while I was not watching him or paying attention to what he was doing) with making his face look mustachioed and pirate-y while I was watching my own ship go down.

Because actually, he popped the stuffing back into my deflated will simply by showing up. Mess and mustache and all. And dang if he didn't get his fluff. And hot chocolate. Because that's what pirates like best for lunch.