So on my drive to work after sitting in gridlocked traffic for a very very very long time, I see this dude running across the road with a bunch of smurfs.
<If I see him again – I’ll ask him if i can take his picture for my blog>
After my manic morning ( and I managed to finish my breakfast and lunch whilst in traffic), I realise I need the smurfs. Lightbulb moment – I just tell my husband that I bought them for Junior but then I can secretly gloat over them at home.
I decide I need Smurfette, Baby Smurf and Papa Smurf. Now to flag down the dude so I can buy them. I hoot, wave, call, hoot, wave, scream (dude – bring me a smurf) but to no avail. Dude ran in the opposite direction and the motorists around me thought I was a deranged b*tch, who probably needed to fulfil her childhood dream of owning a smurf.
On a different note, I thought about the family dynamics of the Smurfs. They’re just as dysfunctional as any normal family in todays day and age. Does anyone know who Baby Smurfs mama is? Or who’s his daddy?
Who’s Papa is Papa Smurf? Why is Smurfette the only girl featured?
