Patience is a type of currency.

I'm still not entirely sure what the story was here... Haven was either sick, or taking a nap. Either way, she sure had a lot of crap in her bed. 


And that plastic lemon seemed important somehow.

Sonja is super skilled at telling long and rambling stream-of-consciousness accounts of the games she plays with Haven. I sometimes think they're like those weird 3D posters from back in the 90's, where you had to relax your eyes and look "through" the picture. 


How you'd do that with your ears, I don't know.

What strikes me is how willing Haven is to be Sonja's subject in these little scenarios. She'll lie down while Doctor Sonja takes care of her "broken arm" or "broken leg" or both. She'll let Sonja cover her up in six different blankets and be surrounded by an army of stuffies and all the food from their toy kitchen. I've walked in and found Haven covered in every necklace-type thing Sonja could find in her toy box. She's pretty patient.


And then the next minute she's pushing Sonja in the face or doing something even more painful. Maybe she figures her patience is a type of currency; "You can stick me in a plastic bin full of toys or pretend I need a cast on my arm, but then I get to bite you." 

Well, whatever you do, don't drop the plastic lemon.