Tiny Little Mouth, Great Big Heart

Dear Blogging Universe,

I'd like you to meet someone.

This is Clomps.

Clomps is a pastel, polka-dotted parasaurolophus, and he is my friend.

We met one summer in a Hallmark store, where I saw him sitting on a shelf. He was little. He was pastel. He was polka-dotted. He was the single most unnecessary and ridiculous thing I had ever seen in my life. I promptly carried him over to the counter, forked over my cash, and took him home. Our fates were to be forever joined from that point on.

I thought Clomps would make the perfect present for a friend of mine who was returning home from a summer trip. Before I gave him to her, I showed one of my male friends a picture of the silly toy I had bought. We agreed it was absolutely ridiculous. The girl liked it, but I kept thinking about the dinosaur long after I had given him away. He was so little and cute and silly. I had grown rather fond of him.

Shortly after, my guy friend was dumped by a girl he had been seeing and was taking it hard. I knew there was only one thing that would be guaranteed to make him smile. Back I went to the Hallmark store to buy another parasaurolophus. As I started to carry the toy away, I noticed there was now only one of them left sitting on the shelf. All alone.

Before I carry on, I’d like to know what any of you would have done in that situation? Gone on with your day? Eliminated the image of a lonely little dinosaur, already millions of years away from any time period he can call home, and now, all that remained of his poor extinct family was gone? Because of ME? I did what any human being with a soul would do. I bought both dinosaurs: one for my friend, and one for myself.

At first I was worried that my macho male friend would be less than pleased at being presented with this miniscule, plushy, polka-dotted thing in public, but to my delight, he was immediately enamoured! He named his parasaurolophus Esophagus. Why? Well...it sounds a little bit the same. And it’s definitely unique!

Rawr.

Roughly three months later, my male friend became the person I have previously referred to on this blog as Boyfriend. When he transferred to a university in another city, our two matching dinosaurs became links between us that helped the distance not feel as far. Clomps is never anything other than adorable and squishable; if I feel sad, I look at his silly little face with his ridiculously tiny smile, and it’s impossible to stay sad for long. I hug my dinosaur, and it feels like somehow it will get passed on to Boyfriend if he hugs his, too.

Over time, Boyfriend and I have developed very specific personalities for our little buddies. They like to eat snacks, sleep, and get into mischief – basically everything two hectic university students never have the time to do. They say rawr a lot, and if you want to carry them around, they will only agree to riding on your shoulder or your head. Needless to say, they do this a lot. 

Boyfriend has mastered the art of double parasaurolophus transportation.

Clomps and Esophagus are best friends, so Boyfriend and I have to visit each other lots so the two of them can see each other.  

In a nice rawrm blankie!

I don’t care if people think it’s crazy how much Boyfriend and I have turned these inanimate objects into veritable friends. The more I do with them, the more I come to believe that it’s not such a crazy thing at all. I have been astounded at how many of the people I know grow instantly attached to Clomps and Esophagus once they get to know them, as if they were people, or at the very least, pets.


Boyfriend and I are part of a youth organization that meets for weekends every couple of months. We bring the dinosaurs to every event, and our friends pay almost more attention to Clomps and Esophagus than they do to us. The group’s leader has declared them honorary members, and my friend Joey dressed Clomps up in a suit so that he could participate. I’m not kidding.

It was awesome.

Boyfriend started a Twitter account for Esophagus, and Esophagus now has more followers than Boyfriend does. Marley, over at thats so high school has expressed a desire for Clomps to be her prom date. Tiffany of Tiff's Tome was preparing for her program entrance exam and was nervous, so Boyfriend told me to lend her Clomps for support. I showed up at her place with Clomps, wearing a sign around his neck that said, “Rawr Tiffrawrny!” She was ecstatic and convinced me to let Clomps stay with her for a sleepover. She spent the rest of the evening taking pictures of their activities, even adjusting her bathroom to better accommodate his needs. 

I'll admit it, I missed him tremendously while he was away.

He missed me, too.

A girl in one of my classes saw Clomps in my bag and started talking to me for the first time on the bus – even though we had been riding the same bus all year. I’m convinced it was Clomps that convinced her I was cool.

People say you should love people instead of things, because a thing can’t love you back. These people have never had a parasaurolophus, of that I am sure. If people are allowed to love animals, then I don’t see why I can’t be allowed to love a soft, little, pastel creature who sits quietly on my desk and is always available for a soft, squishy hug.

I was going to end this post with a sentimental reflection on how Clomps and Esophagus are something like proxies for Boyfriend and I, giving each other love and comfort when we are apart. However, I never realized until today just how much Clomps could symbolize me and my relationships.

The friend who I had initially bought the first Clomps for after her summer trip was amused with him, but that was all. I’m pretty sure she has since lost the toy. She has also very recently revealed to me that our friendship is no longer what I thought it was, and that she is moving on with her life and away from our friendship, which is no longer as useful to her as it once was.

Boyfriend, who was enraptured with Esophagus in the early days of our friendship, I can confidently say is also enraptured with me. He accepts my weirdness in a way I haven’t experienced with anyone else, and my relationship with him has proven impossible to overvalue.

These dinosaurs entered my life back when I had two good friends. One was indifferent to it, and later grew indifferent to me. The other accepted it with love, as he has done with me.

For me, Clomps represents everyone who loves him, and their fondness for him is fondness for me and all of my eccentricities. When I hug Clomps, I am hugging my friends, and am comforted by their soft, warm affection. In this way, when I’m with Clomps, I never feel alone. Isn’t that what a real friend is for?