by Jonathan Holmes
I don't understand. All I did was fix her.
All my life--since before I can remember!--you've been telling me to take care of Emmy, and I have! I do! Better than anyone. I always make sure she's got food and I take her everywhere I go and make sure she's ok. She almost NEVER gets hurt when I'm watching her, and ok, there was that one time, but that wasn't my fault! She just stuck her hand in the maker--how was I supposed to know she'd do something like that? Everyone knows you're not supposed to--it says so right on the front!
Besides, her fingers grew back fine.
That's her problem; she's always poking at things. Every time I watch her, half the time I'm pulling her back from poking her finger in something. Like the maker, or the TV.
I don't know why you're mad. I take the best care of her, in the history, of like EVER. I even let her play my games! Look at her right now! That's MY game she's in.
That's where I got the idea--from games. She could poke and play around as much as she wanted without hurting herself. Or messing up the fridge. And when she was playing, I could play with her. It was great!
Only, she wouldn't stay. She'd get bored and wander off while we were playing and if I didn't notice right way you'd come and get mad at me when it wasn't my fault at all!
Look, I've fixed her! She's safe and happy, and won't wander off anymore. Now it's really easy to take care of her! I did a good thing.