Then Jeremy and I stopped by my office and we were joined by a Thomas who sat in my very stunned lap for ten minutes before actually crawling up on my desk and curling up into a ball. (I should state here that I do, in fact, mean Thomas Littleton and not my son, Tommy, in which case this all would make a lot more sense.) I don't really know what happened there, but he said he was fine. He just...wanted an appropriate curling surface, I suppose. Jeremy decorated him with confetti from my three-hole-puncher, why, I do not know. Thomas said it made him feel festive. While curled up on office furniture.
He's still here, and I'm unsure what to do with him, beyond hanging paperclips off of his jacket. I don't want to leave him here. He looks quite peaceful but what if he rolls off and hurts himself!