In all my years of reading and watching the Peanuts cartoons, I have often known Lucy Van Pelt to lose her head. She screams, �YOU BLOCKHEAD!� at Charlie Brown while he�s sitting at her Psychiatrist�s stand. She threatens her little brother Linus with �five good reasons� to do what she says, as she folds each reason into a fist. And she has certainly lost her head on the baseball field on more than one occasion. But today was the first time I have known her to lose her head literally.

AJ came into my room, as I emerged from the shower this morning, looking very sad. �Mommy, Lucy broke.� Lucy is part of a set of plastic Peanuts figurines that AJ received last Christmas. They are, without question, his favorite toy, apart from his beloved stuffed friends Caterpillar and Rub-a-Tubby the fish, whom AJ doesn�t so much think of as toys as appendages. If AJ were stranded on a desert island and could take three things with him, he would take Caterpillar, Rub-a-Tubby and his �Peanuts guys.� Among the Peanuts guys, Lucy has special pride of place �because she has a nice blue dress with a pretty bow.� Lucy�s chief appeal for AJ seems to be her combination of bossiness and girliness. AJ, Lucy, Linus and Charlie Brown are nearly inseparable. Lately, their adventures have become ever more athletic. This morning they decided to work together to heave Linus into the air in the off chance that he might land in the toy bin on the way down (needless to say, accident-prone Linus missed every time). It seems, though, that they had gone mountain climbing on the stairs while I was in the shower and that Lucy had fallen off the top of the mountain and was tragically decapitated on the floor of the foyer.

AJ was on the brink of tears, but we went in search of some super glue and did some emergency surgery. Lucy was in traction for the better part of the morning, but seems to be recovering nicely and there is no doubt in my mind that AJ will be very careful with her as long as he remembers her injury, which probably means he�ll forget about it sometime tomorrow afternoon. I have ordered an emergency backup set in case she has a relapse. We are all, however, hoping for a full recovery. Meanwhile, Linus has developed a strange rattle in his chest. We are keeping him under close medical observation.

On Monday night I took time off from my busy schedule of surgeries to meet fairlywell for drinks and dinner at a local tavern, which was great fun. I have been living my life as a hermit, of late, and so I was somewhat nervous about the possibility of having to have a conversation that involved my voice rather than my keyboard. My confidence was not assisted by the fact that shortly before I left I managed to sit in a pile of orange Play-doh that SOMEONE left on my chair (It has been suggested to me that the name be changed to Play-D�oh!). Giving my favorite corduroy pants a Playdohectomy will be my next scheduled surgery.

As it happened, fairlywell and I both pulled into the parking lot simultaneously and spent several hours nursing our beers and talking. When I got home my husband grilled me about the event.

�So what did you talk about?� I was at a loss to characterize the conversation.

�Uh, lots of things. Blogging. AJ. Relationships. Knitting. Vacuum cleaners.�

�Vacuum cleaners?�

�Uh, did I mention she helped me turn the heel of the sock I�ve been knitting?�

�You�ve been knitting a sock? What else did you talk about?�

�Um, lass, bacon, how we both feel like big dorks a lot of the time, how our partners don�t get our internet friends.�

�I wasn�t worried. You didn�t say I was worried about you going, did you? You probably did.�

�Actually, I said you were surprisingly unconcerned."

�I wasn�t unconcerned! But I wasn�t worried.�

Good to know.

But it was, in any case, a great evening and it was particularly kind of fairlywell to schlep out all this way and to help me out when I ambushed her by pulling my knitting out of my purse. We missed you, lass, but hope you can join us next time!

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