Eeyore, Piglet and Pooh. Three stuffies she keeps on her bed, and we've been playing dolls a lot lately.
This morning, I came in, gently shook her awake, and had her sit up. We were trying something new. Instead of playing dolls in the evening, when she was tired, we would do it in the morning when she was a little fresher.
This morning, she surfaced like something from the ocean bottom, coming up from a deep sleep. She stretched, sat up, smacked her lips, and looked around.
"Ready?" I asked.
"For what?" she said and yawned.
I held up Eeyore and gave her Piglet. "Ready to have a conversation between Piglet and Eeyore?"
She regarded the stuffy in her hand, looking still sleep drunk.
"Okay," she mumbled, and I held up Eeyore.
"Good morning, Piglet," Eeyore said.
"Good morning, Eeyore," she said, paused, then added, with finality. "Pooh's dead."
She lay back down, rolled over, pulled the quilt over her head and, within a few seconds, the sound of snoring emanated from under the covers .