Theater of the mind

[wiredferret]

Last night, Kay was taking her lights-on bedtime in my room while I was trying to clear off my table so I can actually craft. She was playing with "Wisconsin", an articulated artist's model about 12 inches high that we got at Ikea. (No, I do not know why they named it Wisconsin.)

I wasn't really paying attention to her play, because I was trying to find the surface of the table. It's a cruel irony that I could clear off the table a lot better if I could work on the projects I'm shifting around, but I can't work on them until I find the table.

I wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying, but rather on 80% parental autopilot.

Kay: Wisconsin can be a noodle! (bends doll into semiflexed position)
Me: A noodle, huh?
Kay: Yes. And he has (counts) 27 springs. If his springs were replaced with skin, he would have more blood sugar.
Me: Why does he need blood sugar? He's wood.
Kay: So he doesn't get all cranky!
Me: Good point. If only he had skin.
Kay: That's ok. He can be something else. Now he is an 'O'. A not-very-good O. (attempts to contort doll into an O)
Me, finally paying attention: A not-very-good O?
Kay: Yeah, he's not very good at being an O. Maybe he should go back to being a noodle.\