Roger and Me


Mom and Dad are defense. Baxter is offence. The goal, the ball, the mission and the mystery is the television remote control (we’€™ll call him Roger). Bold colours, bright lights and soft buttons make Roger the most coveted toy in the treasure chest. He’€™s not even in the treasure chest’€”he’€™s that important. Roger is able to frolic alone, enjoying prime living room views, perched high on the arms of furniture. Often, Roger can summon Mom and Dad by his inaudible call. Sure they can play with ol’€™ Rog all they want. It seems rather unfair.
Baxter can be found in a variety of bouncing gizmos; sitting up with his toys on the floor, the sofa; or standing with the aid of any neighbouring brace. He can be sad, happy, cute, funny, sleepy or any manner of mood. But nothing, absolutely nothing, will deter him from his ultimate mission to capture and suck Roger. You may think Baxter is squirming to nestle in close to you, until you realize his ploy: Roger.

Briefly captured, the taste of Roger so delighted Baxter he was oblivious to the sudden change in the room’€™s mood’€”in an instant, there were loud voices, loud noises and a mad scramble of confused adults. The big moving picture box went from pretty pictures of a turn-of-the-century English Abbey to an ultra-violent altercation in a jail in Atlantic City’€”and the volume grows louder still. Baxter revels in his last fleeting moment with his cher ami, then Roger is once again in the hands of the defense.


Leave a Comment