I don't like glass flowers. I made this very clear. One must be firm with one's humans, you understand. Firm and consistent, otherwise they will walk all over you.
So I broke the glass flower. Yes, Anne Elisabeth inflicted the dire punishment of spankings and solitary confinement. But it was worth it. My point was made.
At least, so I thought.
Thanksgiving day came around, and a mysterious package arrived for my stiff-necked human. At first, I was much too distracted by the fascination that is a New Box, to notice what she had pulled from it. I heard her say something like, "Oh, my goodness!" She's very exclamatory like that. And then, "This one is going into the china hutch where it will be safe."
Whatevs. Not interested. There was a box, and a box full of packing material at that, so what did I care?
It wasn't until today, while sitting on my favorite chair in the dining room, that I noticed.
Wait a minute.
Wait. One. Minute.
Is that what I think it is?
Uncle Art took sides with my human, of all things, and sent her a new glass flower!
Listen up, readers. And listen very careful. I am earnest in this message I give you, and I hope that all of you will take it to heart and apply it in your homes.
If you give a human every pretty little thing she wants, she will be spoiled. Spoiled, I say! She will start to think she is queen of the household, and it will take EVERYTHING in any self-respecting Ruling Despot's power to get her back in line.
Why, Uncle Art? I cry you mercy, WHY?
It will have to be destroyed before any semblance of order may be restored to Rooglewood.
Oh, no. No! NO!
Curse you, Force Field!!!
Dear readers, forget not my sorry tale. And never spoil your humans.