My sister recently asked me about the pink plastic poodle. Because it's Christmas.
The poodle is one of my most valuable possessions. It was a prize from the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk long ago. As in 30 years ago. It demands a prominent spot on the Christmas tree each year. I don't remember if it was awarded to Sacha or to me. Maybe Ed Roberts (Old Ed) actually won it. I can't recall exactly which of the silly carnival games it came from. Maybe the one where you throw a ping pong ball into little jars full of water and gold fish. It looks like it would be so easy to toss the ball into the jar, but of course it isn't. Nevertheless, you get a totally terrific pink poodle when you fail. The poodle is ten times better than wining a gold fish. You never have to feed it. It will never float pathetically on the top of the water.
For me, the poodle represents my young motherhood, Sacha's childhood, and our happy summer days at the beach. Ah, shucks! I'm getting misty just thinking about it.
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