Winning At Ankle Injuries, Except Really the Opposite of That
Things That Happened This Week

Mister Woodchip

Please say hello to Little Mister Woodchip Triangleman.

Mr woodchip1

You may call him Mister Woodchip.

I am not sure where Ezra found Mister Woodchip exactly — possibly from his school playground, or swiped from a neighbor's mulch — but I guess it doesn't matter. Mister Woodchip lives with us now. Mister Woodchip lives with us and all of Ezra's many, many actual for-real toys. Although please don't tell Mister Woodchip that I didn't call him a real toy. Because Mister Woodchip is very, very loved.

Here is Mister Woodchip sleeping. 

Mr woodchip2

You can tell that he is sleeping because he is wearing his pajamas. 

Mister woodchip3

When he is awake, he is dressed much fancier. 

Mr woodchip4

When Mister Woodchip goes for a ride in the car, Mister Woodchip requires a coat.

Mr woodchip 5

When taken out in public, Mister Woodchip naturally demands your attention and acknowledgement, despite being an oversized hunk of mulch wrapped in a pair of socks. You will say hi to Mister Woodchip, dear waiter/cashier/random stranger in the supermarket. You WILL. Ezra will simply not tolerate any snubbing of dear Mister Woodchip. 

And that's really all I have to say about Mister Woodchip, other than thanks for giving us something to do with all the mismatched socks. 


Kristen McD

What more is there to say, really? lol. Nice to meet you, Mister Woodchip.


Kids are weird.


Oh, I love it. Hi, Mister Woodchip! (Can we call him Woody?)


Hey, I have to say it, be grateful Mr. Woodchip is a small dude. Our traveling equivalents are far larger, and as we enter our second decade lugging them all over this green earth, I wouldn't mind trading their large butts in for something more along the lines of your petite new friend.


Mr. Woodchip...SO formal. Does he have a first name? He does seem very nice.

The Tutugirl

When I was his age, I had a pet Brussels sprout. At least the woodchip won't start rotting in a few days...

mary eliza

YES!! My son carried around a chunk of wood called of course "Woody" Very hard to remain straight faced when he asked cashiers if they want to see his special "Woody".

Said child's younger brother is slowly bringing home the entire school playground via his pockets 3-4 woodchips at a time....


My nine-year-old niece collects rocks. Rocks that she brings home and promptly deposits... the freezer.

She's been doing this for years, and it shows no signs of ending. My sister shrugs and rummages through the rocks to get to what she needs.

Kids really are strange.


Yup I've got a wood chip collector as well. They have been freshly laundered and piled on the top of his dresser. My cousin had a good idea and has since put a mason jar (of the middle sized variety) in her son's room for all his pocket collections. I think I see a mason jar in my son's future.


Ez is my absolute favorite, that is awesome.


I heart Mr. Woodchip, and thank you for introducing him to us! Also, maybe another a doll of some kind is in order?


'Sup, Chip? Meet my daughter Zoe's friend, Madame Smooth Rockstar Rock. She's a rock and like you, her importance is, well, important.


recently found my 7 year old collection of milk cartons he has been bringing home ALL SCHOOL YEAR, washing them out and "storing them for a special project". all this time I have attributed that slightly off odor to our elderly cat, turns out is was a hoarder supply of lightly washed milk cartons. of course, I can't throw them away, and he won't share what the big project is. counting on him to prepare our underground bunker in the coming years....


Love it!


When she was just about Ezra's age, my daughter had Mowgli the stick. She's 25 now; we still talk fondly about Mowgli the Stick.


Better than the pile of rocks/chunks of concrete I was obliged to carry in my pockets or purse. Oy. And no cute socks for these rocks!


Word of caution here. In my experience...woodchip approval by the mom is like a gateway drug for little boys. Oh she likes Mr. Woodchip, lets invite 700 of his friends over, next it is on to rocks, found objects, and lastly hoarding of straight up trash. Tread lightly girl... ( don't think he didn't notice parental approval via photos of one old milk jug)

Katie P

When my sister was about 8 she had a "pet" clam she picked up on a school field trip. She named him CLAMMY BOY (yes, in capitals, she always shouted it!). A week or so into letting her keep her clam, my Dad broke the news to her that CLAMMY BOY was, in fact, no longer alive. And he was starting to stink up the bathroom, as he was living in the sink. My sister cried like he had just stabbed her puppy! She cried for days. She even made my parents bury him in the yard!

Suzy Q

This made me LAUGH. Also, Katie P's story of CLAMMY BOY. All I could think of was:

The lights, the lights are caaaalling...

(and this is the point where I forget the rest of the words)

Danny Boy will never be the same to me.


Ahahaha! YES.
(I'm currently using a stick as a microphone as per my 3 year olds demands) ( we also have a large rock that is, apparently, Darth Vaders ship, sadly it does not wear socks)


I really like that boy.


Rocks for us. A whole rock family. But no special outfits.

We also have snails that I have to carry around in my purse (I only let her keep the snail shells we find with no snail in it. She just thinks the snail is constantly sleeping).

Korinthia Klein

The sock on the woodchip looks like something straight out of our house.


When I was about that age I had a cigar tin opener I got from my grandfather that I thought was the coolest most interesting toy ever.


Last year my 5 year old daughter had a 5 foot plus tall stick named 'Sticky'. He lived on our porch, and she loved him very much and said she was going to marry him and have stick babies. She kissed his bark all the time (hork) and accidentally poked things and people all the time. I think Sticky came to an unfortunate end over the winter when I threw him in the river....I mean, sent him on vacation....


Wonderful imagination, that boy.

You've just reminded me about the two shampoo bottles my daughter carried as toys, almost 20 years ago. She named them Powa and Teyay. Why we had Norse shampoo I shall never know.


What's he like? It's not important-Triangleman. My son is just six months younger than Ezra, and stuff like this happens in our house all the time. Yay for little boys and their imaginations!


oh good gravy, I love me some Ezra.


Hi, Mr. Woodchip! So nice to meet you.
My 5yo has a "collection" ala Don Pteranodon from Dinosaur Train-whatever catches her fancy. We have many random leaves, small sticks, rocks…


Woodchips are such charming creatures. We have a cat named Woodchip thanks to my then 3-year old's infatuation with them :)


After having the They Might Be Giants song in my head for the past couple of days,I realize I was wrong. It wasn't Triangleman, it was Particleman.


Love this, Mr. Woodchip...I love a previous posters idea of a mason jar for all the collectibles seems like a cute and crafy-ish way to keep it all contained. But then what about the outfit changes??


Love all types of Mr. Woodchip friends...until they get lost and then I am struck down with fear and panic and visions of myself at bedtime, traipsing a dewy yard with wet pajama bottoms and a flashlight.

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