I got handed a bag at playschool. “This is Sarah. We ask a child to take her home each weeked”. In my day you were given the school gerbil to take home for the weekend. And here was Mrs Messer handing me a sealed plastic bag. You can imagine my face. Turns out, Sarah is a puppet.
Ed’s playschool is brilliant but as first time mum I didn’t realise this was the sort of stuff playschools did. Sarah didn’t just come home by herself – she came home with a journal and we had to fill it with things she did with us over the weekend including pictures and photos. I’m fairly sure my mum didn’t have to go that far with the gerbil. We fed it some carrot peelings and put it in the utility room and breathed a sigh of relief when it didn’t die by Monday morning. By the end of the first day, Sarah happened mirrored my own exhaustion at a day spent in our household and poured herself a large glass of wine.
Sarah stayed with us all weekend and had an absolute ball.
“Ed just made Sarah kiss his toes. Hope he doesn’t treat all women this way. Made of felt or not, she is still a woman.”
The only problem we had with Sarah was boundaries. And her being thrown over those boundaries by Edward. “Sarrwaah wants to sleep in bed with me”. No, she doesn’t, Edward. Sarah has slept in the bed of all the children at playschool. She is a puppet slut and is probably riddled with all sorts – old milk crust and mouldy biscuit crumbs. She stays downstairs
Ed was in complete denial when Sarah had to be returned home. He sat on the mat at playschool in a scene similar to when he met her – holding her in her little plastic bag (sick). I told him she needs to stay with Mrs Messer now. He did his blank face, his rejection face, his denial face. And *like Kaiser Solce* just like that, poof, Sarah was gone.