Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Soldier Boy, Oh, My Little Soldier Boy

When R Man was just a tiny R Baby, his family lived in London where he was supplied with actual lead soldiers, knights, to be precise. Many, many years later, on a trip to visit his family, we found them and brought them home to live with us since his parents didn't seem to appreciate them properly.

They have shields and lances and plumes in their tiny little helmets. One of them had lost his plume in a tragic accident. I replaced it with a feather fallen out of a pillow which I snagged before our cat could get around to eating it. We're very concerned the other knights make fun of this one, calling him "Princess Mattress Feather." You know how cruel lead soldiers can be, the bitches.

And now I can't figure out how to load pictures from our new apple so I can't show you the darling photos of them. Soon, I promise.


  1. Better "Princess Mattress Feather" than "Princess Tiny Meat"!

  2. The lead ones are not nearly as bitchy as those snotty young plastic punks.

  3. Don't you go talking about my GI Joe fetish.

  4. He lost his "plume" in a tragic accident and you gave him a prosthetic "plume"? Poor, poor dear. I can't imagine how he stands the shame. After all, what's a man to do without his "plume?"

  5. "Princess Mattress Feather!" I love it. Here in Baltimore, I'm beginning to feel more and more like Princess Hayseed.


In Which We Take a Trip

  I was reminded of the following story by this charming illustration I stumbled across on Tumblr.  It is a sheet of blotter acid from back ...