I’m not entirely sure when my son first became cool enough to merit his own entourage, but he clearly has one. It may have started with the single stuffed 6″ Mickey Mouse that my sister gifted him with after a trip to Disney World. As you can tell, his group of friends has grown, multiplied exponentially, in fact. It has gotten to the point that a small U-Haul is required to transport The Gang on any over night trip. I am considering attaching a GPS marker to my son’s head so I can quickly identify him when I go in to check on him at night. As it currently stands, it can take me upwards of 30 minutes to sort through the pile and figure out where he is.
To be honest, I’m not really sure that the Mickeys in particular aren’t somehow procreating on their own. More and more of them continue to appear and I know I’m not supplying them. If they aren’t reproducing, I am going to conclude that the Disney empire has somehow installed a trapdoor into my son’s bedroom through which they periodically deliver stuffed Mickey Mouses. A less subliminal form of advertising, but clearly effective, as Mickey remains the hardcore favorite, in both doll and television, in this household. In any case, I will continue to dream that I myself someday will score my own entourage–having a disposal of available friends is clearly the way to go…
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