Most mornings, I let the twins sleep in. I suppose I could go in and wake them when I get Zoë and Zane up for school. (Starting tomorrow that will be Zoë, Zane and Zia.) But then, what would be the fun in that. I mean, left to their own devices, the unsupervised moments just after rising provides a most interesting period of creative expression.
Upon hearing my little raccoons awake, I ventured upstairs and tentatively opened the door in anticipation of what I might find.
Zella, sitting on her bed, proudly announced, “It’s a castle!” pointing to the mound of fluff she had been meticulously arranging.
“Where did all that stuffing come from?” I asked attempting to follow the fluff trail to ascertain it’s origin.
It didn’t take me long to find it, a little rabbit, fluff free lying in a clump on the floor between their beds. “Guys, what happened to little bunny?”
“He’s dead,” Zander flatly stated.
And surely he was.