“When you have nothing,” I said, “be creative.”

She stared at me.  I had no idea whether she was processing what I was saying, or if her thirteen-year-old mind was somewhere else.  Probably on anime.  She gathered her backpack, coat, and school computer.  Gave me a big, solemn hug. Trudged out the door.  I would not see her for a week.

A week later on Monday Morning she was curled up on my sofa, reading a book.  Her mother is “essential personnel” — that means she stays with me on certain weekdays.  I put on the breakfast bacon and potatoes and took care of my morning internet posts.  After I was finished, I walked into the dining room to set the table.

And that’s when I found him.

That strange-looking creature made of latex and water.

Mr. Wibbles.

I sat down and laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe.  Finally, I…