Wednesday, January 17, 2007

my guardian ewoks.

Well technically they're Jeremy’s.

When I’m being disagreeable he points to them and says wicket is going to attack me. Every now and then I’ll glance up and see him there, watching me. Waiting for me to step out of line. I can only see glimpses of the others but I know they're all there. Watching. Waiting.

Wouldn’t it be awesome if they came alive at night and foraged in the living room? Maybe we don't have mice at all. Maybe we just have ewoks. Mini ewoks.


Beware the Miniwoks....

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