You’re My Obsession

“Winnie Pooh, your shirt doesn’t cover your belly.”

I don’t know why she’s calling me Winnie Pooh? I’m Honey Bear Type. I must look like this Pooh fella. Wink, wink.

“Do you want to see my belly?” The wide-eyed four-year-old birthday girl asked.

She didn’t give me time to respond. She wanted to show Honey Bear her belly.

“And that’s my belly button. I’m not supposed to put my finger in it but sometimes I do,” she said as she slowly circled her finger around the forbidden bellybutton.

She looked up at me and her bellybutton fixation was broken. She put her hands on her hips and suddenly got a stern look on her face, “You look hungry Pooh. I’m going to get you some honey so you won’t be hungry, Ok?”

Who am I to argue with the birthday girl?

She came back with a bear shaped honey container and put it in my bag.

“Don’t forget to share your honey with Piglet and Tigger, Pooh.” She emphasized this by pointing a finger at me. The same finger that earlier was orbiting her belly button. I hope she washed it.

I AM a Purple Dino Type.

One Response to You’re My Obsession

  1. MIke says:

    Innocence is bliss. Especially compared to your Clown story.

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