"The choice was between a roll with different kinds of pipes printed on it and 'Dad' repeated over and over in brown and tan, and this one, the one they settled on, with puppies; a friendlier paper somehow, the puppies all roly-poly, tangled up in the words 'Happy Birthday' spelled out in curling green ribbon. There is real green ribbon made to match, and it was this added feature that tipped the balance. But now--'Oh, dear,' she says aloud, and wishes Babe were there. When she and Babe are together, everything seems easy, everything makes sense. Alone, she is sure of nothing. The planet may slide at any moment from its orbit, the sun lurch sidewise, the carpeting break free from its moorings with a whump and roll itself thickly up to smother her.
She spreads out a length of paper from its cardboard tube, and while she reaches for the scissors, it curls back up again slyly. She thinks of the carpeting--waiting, she knows, to do the same--and gives it a suspicious glance, but it keeps all innocent and blue to the floor, muffling its intent."
--Thursday, May 22, 1952, Herbert Rowbarge
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