Wednesday, June 9, 2010
He has alot of secrets, and he's not telling. Who knitted him those socks to match his jumper?
Couldn't she use a little button or a snap?? Who added the contemporary diaper pin? Is that red jumper made of wool twill? It's hand-stitched, was that girl learning to sew with the red jumper project?
Who donated her used underwear to patch him up? When did that happen? It's pretty heavyweight stuff; was it BVDs? It looks like a much earlier project, since the underwear is tied together with string. And, it's quite dirty -- this must have been before buses. Didn't your Mom say to change your underwear because she didn't want you to get hit by a bus and go to the hospital with dirty drawers?
How does Otto maintain his composure and elegance in the face of his diminution? Was he once well-to-do or royal? It sure looks like Otto is up against it now.
Otto peers fixedly into a dusty mirror but is unfazed at his aging problem. Perhaps it's because the dust hides the wrinkles and cracks. Somehow, within him, and in my imagination, he is still a baby boy. And he doesn't say EWWWWW when I hug him.
No snips and snails and puppy dog tails and spitting up the mashed peas and rubbing it into his scalp, or pea green handprints on the wall paper.
Sweet Otto, he's such a good little boy.