Once upon a time, Katy returned from her mission to Villahermosa, Mexico.
The day she was getting back, my mom sent Sarah and I to get some poster board from Wal-Mart so we could make "Welcome Home" signs.
Well, when we were there, we also saw a very colorful pinata.
And it called out to us:
"Bring me home," it said. "Bring me home to Katy."
So we did.
And I named the pinata Bob.
When Katy got home, she thought that it was ridiculous that I named the pinata Bob. So she renamed him Jorge.
Enter little cousins. One of my little cousins (who is two years old) saw the pinata and started playing with him. But, she renamed him "Mamana." Which, in little cousin language means, "Mama Horse."
And after a "Kevin's a GIRL?!!" moment . . .
the name stuck.
So Bob/Jorge/Mamana is now just that . . . Mamana.
And you just never know where you'll find her next.
Although she does like sitting/standing upside down by the couch.
And I like taking her around with me when I'm jamming out to music/pretending to exercise:
Because, why not?
Will we ever use her as an actual pinata? Probably not. I think by this point it would kind of be like killing an animal you've grown to love for food. I mean, you just don't kill Wilbur. You just don't destroy Mamana for candy. At least, I'm not gonna do that.
Not today at least.