The High Sparrow’s Champion: Ser Loras Tyrell vs Zombie Ser Gregor Clegane (Robert Strong)

The last time we saw Ser Loras Tyrell compete against Ser Gregor Clegane, it would have ended with a wilted bouquet if not for the intervention of Sandor Clegane, The Hound.

With Cersei’s trial by combat approaching, I think Ser Robert Strong (the Zombie Mountain) will face off against Ser Loras Tyrell. Why?

  1. Ser Loras is already breaking while locked up by the Faith.
  2. Ser Loras may be offered atonement if he wins.
  3. Queen Margery has sided with the Faith in order to further her own goals.
  4. Queen Margery would benefit with Cersei’s champion losing and thus being sentenced to death.
  5. Finally, Ser Loras Tyrell is probably the best fighter of the Faith (assuming he joins them).

Also, in terms of plot, a fight in which Ser Loras Tyrell may die because of Cersei will only ratchet up the hatred and drama between the Tyrells and the Lannisters.

Thoughts?

ser-loras-tyrell-vs-robert-strong

I’m too pretty to die.

 

Willow Pillow

S— understood a rhyme for the first time today and laughed. Looking forward to fun.

Tonight, S— made a joke. At least, I think she made a joke. I was rocking her. Bedtime dragged out. She was in a giggly mood and skipped her nap during the day. Then she said, “Don’t drop me, Daddy.”

She’s 21 months old. I have never dropped her. I said, “I won’t,” and S— laughed. Then, in a sing-song voice she kept repeating, “Don’t drop me, Daddy. Don’t drop me, Daddy.” Everytime I said, “I won’t drop you, S—. I won’t drop you,” she laughed.

Earlier in the day, she warned up her joke telling by calling R—, Daddy instead of Mommy.

And though it wasn’t part of her deliberate comedian routine, she wishes everyone a happy Otter’s Day.

Running

I’m slowly getting back to running, but need to stop making excuses. How else am I gonna keep up with this kid?

I'm running!

I’m running!

Ooko by Esmé Shapiro

In Ooko, by Esmé Shapiro, a lonely fox searches for companionship. Geared up with a stick, a leaf, and a rock, she’s all set to play. But, ugh, she has no friends!

People. People. People.

wherethewildsthingsare
Tonight, while reading Where The Wild Things Are, S— pointed to the monsters and said, “Person. Person. Person.”

I started to correct her. I pointed and said, “Monster.” But, I mumbled the “ster.” What am I doing, I thought?

“That’s right,” I said. I pointed to the figures in the picture. “Person. Person. Person.” There were no monsters for S—. She may not even have the word or the concept.  The figures didn’t frighten her. She saw Max and the Wild Things and didn’t differentiate. Why should I teach her the word monster? Why would I teach her to fear that which is different?

We finished the book. Max sailed home, in and out of a week, and back to a warm dinner waiting in his room. Soon, S— would fall asleep. I laid her down in her crib and slipped out the door. The whir of the sound machine, a soft susurrus in the background.