My Curse

I realized last night while reading Scarlett her bedtime story that I'm cursed. It's official. My curse is an unusual one, one you may not have heard of before. Here it is: The Curse of The Blanket.

They follow me everywhere. I sew blankets (constantly, as you know). I write about blankets (obviously). I think about blankets (non-stop). I even dream about blankets (happy dreams). These are all the positive aspects of my curse. Here's the negative: Franklin's Blanket.

The curse of the blanket has invaded my oldest's reading material! She will NOT read ANYTHING else. I read this painful book many, many times per day. I can't take it any more. I'd try some sort of voodoo, de-blanket curse, but then I'd run the risk of omitting all of the positives my curse has brought. I clearly have no choice- I'll have to suffer through a few more readings. And in the meantime I'll wish for Franklin to smarten up and get a little more interesting. After all, I really like blankets (clearly).