There Eli was! He was enjoying a mid-morning stroll around the front patio with his mom. The birds were singing; the fog hung lightly on the neighborhood like a smokey silk sheet. In each hand, Eli lovingly held a nice, juicy tomato. The tomatoes were happy. Eli was happy. Three of the 5 birds were happy. Fate, his hand firmly afixed to the wheel of fortune, flexed. Eli, 43% of the time so sure on his feet, tripped while dashing toward a particularily interesting looking smashed snail corpse. A lesser man (<28in tall) might have used the tomatoes as cushions to save himself. Another man might have abandoned the tomatoes to save himself. Eli, having the prescense of mind of a true saint, opted to land forehead first, arms outthrust to save the precious tomatoes. Faces heal, tomatoes do not.

There Eli was! Dressed in one of his many cute outfits of cuteness, Eli strutted around day care turning many an envious eye. During a brief pause in his romping, a tragedy of smelly proportions ensued. Through a lapse of proper waste management equipment installation exectution, a containment breach occured. It occured all over his poor outfit. As a result, he was stripped of his style, and forced into the dreaded "backup" outfit. Though he hid his shame well, all knew that his baby fasion standings were slipping dangerously. So ended a life of shallow frappery before it even began to bud.

There Eli was! He had watched the sun creep down below the horizon, and now he played on in the early dark. The day had worn on long and productive. Many toys had been played with, and none with passive gentility. Though his energy was spent with ascetic fervor, he nevertheless intended to take one final drive around the familyroom before turning in. This proved unwise. His parents later found him where he lay, asleep at the wheel!

There Eli was! On a truly cloudless day, waning clear and bright in the city of Saint Barbara's namesake, he took his appointed chair and assumed his pivotal duty as The Ringbearer. A 2' tall giant, Eli drew attention from every eye with but an upturning of his countenance. His focus and patience were nigh legendary as he hardly fidgeted through the first 10 glacial minutes of ceremony. It was his sister, in an Eveian turn of temptation, that lured him into mishap. A particularly discordant musing on the rigidity of custom momentarily distracted Eli's guardian. Though given ample instruction on the matter, Eli fell as did Pandora before him. A quick flash of his hands on the sacred box, and above the muted hush of the proceedings could clearly be heard "*tiiing*...*ting* *ting*." Disaster! Half the sacred stock depleted. For a moment, it seemed that only one participant in the day's event would receive their souvenir. Due, no doubt, to a life well lead, fate smiled on our fledgling ringbearer, and shone the truant circlet just beneath the guardian's perch. All recovered, and all well ended.