Everybody loves a reindeer at Christmas, right? It seems, however, that there is more to the story of the reindeer than meets the eye.Last night Shorty emerged from the shower where she had been kept occupied as I 'modded' her cot. She appeared pleased with its transformation...
...into a mini-bed. She only fell out once last night and got straight back in but it needed a hint of festivica.
Then I remembered this reindeer pillowcase opped from Ron and Brian's a while back and as yet unused. As I proceeded to unfold it and look more closely at the images, I realised it was not the cheerful jaunt in the Black Forest it had initially appeared to be. Rather it reminded me of a Grimm's fairy tale or the Willow plate story. It's all a bit maudlin really.
The story starts happily enough with an idyllic childhood, breastfed under aqua trees with Mother and Father Reindeer.
Then somehow, tragedy struck and the young reindeer prince had his antlers lopped whilst wandering in a wintry wasteland. He cried so much that his feet soon froze solid in the salty pool of his own tears.
He slept deeply in a sugary pink coma as the antlers began to regrow at a hitherto unseen rate. He awoke to discover himself sporting new, fabulous, golden antlers and excreting huge colourful jelly beans onto the forest floor. (It's right there on the pillowcase, I tell you!)
He became a wise and noble king who married a doe of considerable gardening skills named Doe-rothy. There may also have been ruby slippers involved but that's another story.
It does not appear to have disturbed her too much yet but if she starts to refuse jelly beans, I'll let you know!
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