Title: Tinkertoys In The Cupboard Type: Inspirational, Family Date Published: 2006-10-19 Can be purchased in Volume 1

     We have Tinkertoys in our cupboard. I'm not talking about the toy cupboard. I mean that I will sometimes pull out a bowl to put cereal in and, half asleep, pour in cornflakes and milk. I take a bite and receive 2000% of the unrecommended lifetime supply of fiber and plastic polymers. I really hate Tinkertoys in my cupboard.
     "Who put the Tinkertoy in my cereal bowl?!" I holler, as I search for my missing tooth.
     I really didn't need to ask that. I knew who it was. It was a 22-month-old gremlin with blond hair, blue eyes, and piggy tails. She has taken a real liking to Tinkertoys.
     There are Tinkertoys in the bowls, Tinkertoys in my bed, Tinkertoys in my shoes, and Tinkertoys stuffed in the floppy drive of my computer. If I get up in the middle of the night for a drink of water, I am sure to step on a Tinkertoy and roll bruisedy, scrapity, crashity down the stairs. The last time that happened, my hollering could have put any decibel meter off the scale. I woke the whole house and most of the neighbors within a half mile radius. I swore I was going to take every Tinkertoy to the second-hand store.
     But that was then. My little, blond, blue-eyed gremlin has recently been sick. We spent three days in the hospital, with her temperature soaring to 106 degrees. She slept in my arms as I comforted her, keeping her from pulling on the IV that was giving her the life-saving antibiotic. I put cool cloths on her forehead, not daring to sleep for fear she would leave me for good. I stroked her blond hair, wishing I could draw the sickness from her and take it upon myself.
     At times exhaustion overcame me and I started to drift off to sleep, only to wake with a start, panicking at my lapse as I checked on her again. The three days took their toll on me as I sat in the chair, praying, with her in my arms.
     Finally, her fever broke and she was able to come home. Unshaven and unkempt, I carried her from our car and tucked her gently into her bed. She still didn't want to do much and just lay there, quietly holding "bankie" close. I would come home from work each day and open the cupboard, hoping to see a Tinkertoy in my cereal bowl, but it wasn't there - none in my bed, none in my shoes, none in my computer.
     Then, one day, coming in from work tired and hungry, I did pull out a plate and, to my great joy, I found a dirty, chipped, unsanitary Tinkertoy. I turned around and my little blond gremlin poked her head around the corner. Though she was still pale, her eyes had a sparkle I hadn't seen for a long time.
     I held up her Tinkertoy. She came to me and hugged my knees. She then took her Tinkertoy and toddled off, humming.
     You know what? I really do like Tinkertoys in my cupboard.