Unfortunately, I vomited all over him on one of our annual summer nausea marathons (aka road trip) and he was not salvageable. My grandmother had seen how much I loved Gizmo while we were there visiting, so she sent me this replacement. (Brace yourself, Mom.)
He scared the crap out of me, but resulted in hours of fun for my dad, who used him to play practical jokes on my mom. Fun times.
No idea why this is all so vivid in my head right now, but I decided it was the universe telling me to blog.
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