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Wednesday, February 1, 2012

My Dog Eats Babies...

There's been a tragedy. It turns out that our very own Mr. Harrelson eats babies. Yes. You read that right. He's developed a taste for flesh. Well, plastic. Rubber? Whatever. Meet Baby Rapunzel.
Or, you know, what's left of Baby Rapunzel.  Oops.

This is the baby doll that Ms. Thang had to have for Christmas. After I had already completed all of my shopping, as we were strolling through our local Hell-mart Wal-mart, she saw Baby Rapunzel on display and informed me that she needed one for her very own. Thus implying that if she didn't have one, Christmas would forever be ruined. Of course, I'm not big into focusing on just presents, but at 3, and with the aura of adorableness about her, I figured that I should at least try to make her dreams come true.
As luck would have it, of course, the store was out of the all-important doll by the time I got a chance to shop without her. So, I called my mother and asked if she wanted to be the hero of the piece and purchase the doll for my daughter. She hadn't completed her shopping, so she agreed, and my sister ended up finding it at their local store. Ms. Thang was beyond thrilled with her gift, and Baby Rapunzel has been a prominent feature in her playtime activities ever since. She's even made a few trips with us out of state. Alas, it appears that Baby Rapunzel will no longer be accompanying us, as she has now been affectionately dubbed “Stumpy.”
I'd feel sorry for my daughter if it weren't for 2 factors. One, I hated that doll. Her hair was the bane of my existence. I have spent more time brushing Baby Rapunzel's hair than I have my own, or my daughter's. True story. And two, this:

Me: "Put your toys away if you don't want the dog to chew on them."
Ms. Thang: "ARGH!!!!"
Me: "Put your toys away if you don't want the dog to chew on them."
Ms. Thang: "ARGH!!!"
Me: "The dog does not yet understand the difference between something you left in the floor because it's his and something you've left in the floor because you were too lazy to put it up. If you don't want your things chewed on, you might want to put them away."
Ms. Thang: "Woody won't leave my things alone."
Me: "Put your toys away if you don't want the dog to chew on them."
etc. etc. etc.
Some variation of the same conversations every day. Fast forward to today.
Me: "Watch the dog while I go shower."
***elapsed time 15 minutes***
Ms. Thang:"Wah!!!!!!!!!"
Eggy: "Woody just ate Ms. Thang's Rapunzel doll."
Me: "Sigh."

Raise your hand if you saw this coming. Yeah. Me too. So, that's the sordid tale of Rapunzel's demise. Mr. H doesn't even have the good grace to feel bad about the whole incident. He might be the perfect hit man. I personally feel like giving him a treat and seeing if I can encourage him to decrease the stuffed animal population around here. (Was that out loud? Oops.)

Mr. H: I am not misbehaving!  My only desire is to please you.  No more pesky brushing of this messy hair.  See how much I love you?
Mr H: I can totally be bought.  Did someone say Milk-Bone?  

Anyway, I'm hopeful that this is a hard won lesson in putting away your things so that the puppy doesn't eat them. But not that hopeful, because she's 4 and I'm not an idiot. I'm sure this is only the first of many, many tragedies. I'm also sure that she's going to use her birthday money to buy another Baby Rapunzel. Sigh.  

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1 comment:

  1. Unfortunately for the kids, Mr. H. will probably be a great teacher for keeping their treasures off the floor. Can I borrow him to teach mine the same lesson?