I saw something so sad today it almost made me want to cry. As T, E, and I were driving back from the beach in Long Branch (side note: SOMEONE PLEASE REMIND ME TO NEVER EVER EVER SPEND THE WARM MONTHS OF THE YEAR AN HOUR FROM A LARGE BODY OF WATER EVER AGAIN. WHY HAVE I DONE THIS TO MYSELF?!) this evening, we passed what can only be described as stuffed animal roadkill.
It was an adorable little stuffed monkey. He looked like he was soft and fun and would be nice company on a desk or a bookshelf...he was so small that he could get lost in a bed and not be very conducive to snuggling. But he was the cutest thing ever. So brown and fuzzy. And he was lying on the side of the road, discarded like some ungrateful child tossed him out the window. A seam had opened on his back and fluffy white stuffing was spilling out. IT WAS LIKE HE WAS BLEEDING.
If we hadn't been in the middle of a superbusy highway, I would have screamed for T to stop the car so I could run out and save him and stitch him up and give him a loving home. As it were, I could only tell T and E the horror I had just witnessed, prompting T to comment on the irony of the fact that we have been entirely desensitized to actual roadkill but my heart had gone out to this poor stuffed animal. He didn't seem to deserve such a cruel fate. Kids can be so mean. Whatever child abandoned that poor monkey is the second person I wish I could have slapped today.
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