Flowers

When I was around six I got a bunny rabbit named Flowers. I loved Flowers. I protected her against our dog Groucho Marx. And I always let her wear the prettiest doll dresses when we mutilated my doll collection. But one day Christina came over. We were playing with Flowers when we got the wonderful idea of making her fur softer with Johnson and Johnson baby oil. So we gave her a bath in oil and dressed her in the prettiest doll outfit we could find. Little did we know Flowers was having death wishes’ during her spa day.  Right when she was at her most critical dress up moment mom walked in to save the day. Flowers was being pulled in between Christina and I, “My bunny” “No! My bunny!” “Mine!” “Let go! She’s my bunny!” we said.  Another pale expression wiped across Barbara’s face as she leapt in an attempt to rescue Flowers. My mom spent the rest of the day washing Flowers and blow drying her, now very soft, fur. Flowers was stiff rock hard the next morning, looks like she got her wish after all.