Fred and his Festive...ahem...Magic
When Owen was a blob, just a slobbery, wriggly infant happy to lie on the floor and stare at a light fixture, I discovered that I was a terrible mother because I'd overlooked the 'must-have' toy for his age group. "He doesn't have a Sophie?!" a girlfriend gasped with concern. A glorified dog toy at a whopping $20, it even made a pathetic squeak not unlike Berkley's toy bone. Ah, but Sophie is crafted with love in some ramshackle French factory. A beautiful giraffe hand painted with healthy, non-toxic, vegetable based paints sure to nourish your growing blob while he gums sweet Sophie's face off. I knew I was a sucker for the hype as I placed it in my shopping cart. I knew I was a dork when I put it on the cashier's conveyor belt and handed her my debit card. I felt like a schmuck when I put it in the car and brought it home, but I couldn't have the rest of the mamas at our "mommy & music" playgroup see that poor Owen was going wit