Meeting the Plastics

What a strange night last night was. 
At 5pm, I waited where Mrs. Plastic would pick me up.  Soon I spotted a blue van pulling up to where I stood. After greetings were exchanged, the two of us fell into easy conversation and chatted the entire drive home.

Mrs. Plastic had never seen an elf before, and began to wonder whether or not I would fit into her rather large, extended family. She told me that they were play toys for young children and worried that I might be too delicate to stay at their house. Not delicate in the sense that I couldn't cope, more like if human children came to play with me. 
Her relatives are a rather rowdy group, and have many scratches, dings and dents. For the Plastics, this is a sign that they are loved. They like to come to the end of their lives with as many battle scars as possible, because then they know that they have fulfilled their purpose and have delighted young children.

Okay, so maybe I am delicate. As Mrs Plastic was telling me these things, a shiver ran up my spine. I don't want scratches, I just want companionship and to make a difference somehow without bodily harm.

As we pulled up to the house, many unfamiliar faces came out to greet me.

Everybody told me their names, and at the end of it, my head was spinning. Vikki, George, Noah, Susan, Madison. . . all the names blended together.

We enjoyed a huge meal together and had an amazing sing along after dinner. The kids showed me all of their animals and yard toys. They stuck to me like glue, probably because I am more their size.
I must say though, the Plastics sure live life to the fullest! After a busy fun-filled evening, everyone was about ready to crash for the night.
Then Grandma Plastic announced that it was bedtime. As if by magic, everyone  just lay their heads wherever they were at the given moment and fell asleep. Very strange! 

After putting the baby to bed, Mrs. Plastic informed me that there was a hammock available out on the porch for me to sleep in.
Before climbing into bed, I sat on a rocking chair to think. I came to the following conclusion:

This "open concept" living stuff is over rated! Give me private rooms and a roof any day!

As great and friendly as this family was, I needed to find a place of my own, ASAP! Grandpa Plastic had mentioned something about a camper van that I could borrow. I thought about it as my hammock swung in the breeze.
By morning I had decided to take up his offer, and he handed me the keys. 

I will tell you about that adventure later.
Cheerio!
Isabelle