While my Drew usually gets to be the hero to our Andy, I still zealously vie for the crown of fun parent–although I sense I’m losing by a landslide these days.

To compound the competition, Drew continually brags about how he invented “Donut Saturday” for Andy. Remarkable ingenuity, don’t get me started.  Drew even had the audacity to implement a rule that Donut Saturday is a boys only event.  So he and Andy have a formal deliberation most Friday evenings where they elaborately assess whether I’ve made the cut to attend the upcoming Donut Saturday.

It’s hurtful, and I don’t like it one bit.

Which has probably caused me to make a string of bad decisions in hopes of furthering my chances of attending Donut Saturday.

And that’s precisely the place I was in on this Saturday morning in June when I stumbled upon him.

He stood roughly three-feet tall, and was equally wide, with an unassuming gaze, disheveled coat of dark fur, and deep, unforgettable eyes.

He was the belle of the ball, scintillating amongst the undesirables scattered throughout the garage sale rejects.

From the moment I laid eyes on him, I knew Andy would love him. How could he not? I loved him.

It was so much more than an oversized, overpriced stuffed gorilla.

It was an opportunity.

I was going to be the hero.

I seized the opportunity.

I eagerly paid $10.00 for my new friend, skipped to my car with him in tow, and quickly exited the garage sale before the seller had time to rethink my shrewd negotiation tactics.

What a fortuitous occasion.

His name would be Harambe.  We ultimately call him Bae.

Coincidentally, only a week earlier, had the Harambe controversy broke open across the nation.

It had curiously broke open in our house too.  Mostly, because Drew and I do not see eye to eye on every layer of the matter, resulting in a few passionate discussions.  And mostly because my Drew often values animal life above that of most humans.

Rolls eyes.

I was pleased as punch to discover that Bae fit all too perfectly in my front passenger seat as we gleefully made the trek home together.

I fantasized about sashaying through our front door with the prized garage sale treasure on my shoulders, gallivanting around the house as mom of the year.

That fantasy died before I could even get Bae out of my front seat.

Andy was terrified of Bae.

So much so that we had to remove poor Bae from Andy’s nursery because Andy would scream and run for the hills upon seeing Bae.

Bae was quickly relegated to the closet all by his lonesome for quite some time.

But I’m now happy to report that the period of banishment has ended.  Bae sits more happily in the corner of the playroom, although we’re still a wee bit skeptical of him as far as I can tell.

I continue to possess high hopes for Bae’s role in Andy’s life.

Higher hopes for my discretion in future purchases.

And even higher hopes that I might be invited to Donut Saturday–perhaps next weekend, even.