I was just walking past
The Toy Store. I had no intention of going in. Really. But there I was, in between performances at the
Lawrence Arts Center Preschool. My car was around the corner getting the tires rotated and aligned. What harm could there be in just stopping in to see if there were any new puppets?
Sigh. This one reached out and put itself on my hand. Since I walked out of the store with him in my puppet bag, he has joined me at twelve more shows in this preschool residency week, part of the
Lied Center of Kansas' Performing Arts Three to Five program.
At first, I gave him a generic bird squawk. No, he's just a baby. He spoke up: "Peep? Peep?" That fit better. On the first day, I was calling him Peep, but I made a slip and called him Peepy by mistake. Most of the kids didn't hear that, but I knew it was dangerous--if I have a puppet named peepee, I'll never get the children's attention back. His name is now Peeps. He likes worms, but he's like my turtle puppet Billy, susceptible to hiccups.
At home, this new guy ran into unexpected danger.
At first, there was no problem. He was napping in his shell.
He began to wake up. He's got bedhead, hasn't he?
He's just a baby, unaware of the perils in this life.
Still oblivious to the danger, he was cheerful, hoping for a worm or three.
Hey!
Thank goodness for that shell. Those evil claws can't get through.
Back on his perch, Peeps let go of the trauma. After this, I put him back in the puppet bag, where Trixie and Baby will always protect him. Mr. Bacon turned his attention to the scratching post and is now in his favorite chair.
