Her Tired Martian

Her Tired Martian wanted a bag of flour that they would occasionally put on his head. It should be a fairly original operation, to my mum, but not to the Martian, who assumed that the idea was epic. Who would have imagined, a bag of flour would be the thing that was chosen.

Her Tired Martian found a helmet to sit and look at. It would be a strange suggestion, to my grandpa, but not to the Martian, who expected that this idea was the most awesome idea. Who would have thought, a helmet of all things.

Her Tired Martian desperately needed a bat that they would smash. One might find this to be a fairly weird and wonderful approach to life, to my children, but not to the Martian, who assumed it was fun. You wouldnt have thought, a bat was the chosen thing.

Her Tired Martian desperately wanted a hat that they would occasionally watch for 10 minutes every morning. One might find this to be a fairly bizarre activity, to me and my husband, but not to the Martian, who expected that this idea is spectacular. Honestly, a hat would be the item that was selected.

Her Tired Martian needed a crown that they would occasionally rub on his belly. It might be a curious activity, to my grandpa, but not to the Martian, who expected that the idea was sublime. Who would have thought, a crown being the item opted for.

Her Tired Martian desired a bag of poop to embrace. This seems a fairly exciting undertaking, to me and my children, but not to the Martian, who feels that the idea was out of this world. Remarkably, a bag of poop was the chosen thing.