Getting What I Deserve

Remember this?

Yeah, I know. Who could forget it? Anyhoo, I totally got what I deserved for sharing that image with anybody. Last night I had the most wonderous dream about freaktastic dolls coming to life and attacking. Picture the Thriller video starring dolls. That thing up there? Starred in Michael Jackson's role.

Somewhere in the midst of this dream, my own personal roving Toddler apparently decided she was so over her own bed and wandered into our room. She brought her sweet little baby doll with her. I don't know exactly what transpired since I was busy protecting my face from evil doll claws, but I do know that when I woke up at 3:00 am, there was a FREAKIN' DOLL ON TOP OF ME.

No lie, Alexis' stuck her stupid doll on top of me before she went around to Mr. Husband's side of the bed to climb in.

Much screaming.

Not much sleeping.


This is How You Change the Subject

OK, not really. I'm still stuck on the freaky dolls. I was too busy watching the Pens kick some butt last night to post the truly, genuinely disturbing doll photos. There is so much worse to be seen. I would be sharing the bottom of the barrel right now except:

- Mr. Husband has offered to go to Cleveland in exchange for me not making him look at another pair of freaked out glass eyeballs. I have not yet decided if this seems like a fair deal.

- I have stuffed two of Alexis' way more normal dolls in the bottom of the toy box so far today. They looked at me wrong and now I don't ever want to see them again.

- My mind's eye is pleading with me to make it stop.

So, you're off the hook. For now.

In the spirit of changing the subject, here are some random tidbits:

- We ran to the fish store earlier today to pick up a few cleaner shrimp for the saltwater tank. While in line to pay for them, some random guy started talking to Mr. Husband.

RG: Wow! Those are some big shrimp!
Mr. H: Yeah. (Mr. H still takes all that "don't talk to strangers" training he got as a kid VERY seriously)
RG: What kind of shrimp are those?
Mr. H: Peppermint Shrimp.
RG: Cool! So do they taste like peppermint?
Mr. H: No.
RG: Oh. So what do they do?
Mr. H: They clean the tank.
RG: Oh. But they don't taste like peppermint, huh?

Ahhhhh, Pittsburgh's best and brightest at work.

- Once upon a time, I wanted some Iam's coupons so I filled out a survey online. My punishment for saving a buck or two on dog food was that I ended up signed up for their newsletter. This month's version came to my email box with the subject line, "Should Meg sleep in your bed?"

I know the answer to that question. No. Never. No way. Bulldog + My Bed = Bad Idea. No discussion necessary.

- Alexis is trying very hard to master the art of finger signs, especially the alphabet. She can sing her ABC's like a champ, but seems to think in order to be a Master of the Alphabet Universe she has to be able to sign all the letters. So if you see her out and about this week, just know that she doesn't normally spend her every waking moment staring at her hands and contorting her fingers in all sorts of odd positions. Nor does she usually spend ten minutes trying to sign an "L" only to realize that she is signing "I love you," which of course warrants the need to yell "I LOVE YOU" at the top of her lungs. Frankly, it's a pretty darn cute variety of neurosis she's got going on.


Sweet Dreams for One and All

While we were in Cleveland, I saw something that I haven't been able to get out of my head. Somewhere in the mall we visited, we came across some a store that sold custom-made dolls. Alexis LOVED the dolls. They were adorably life-like with cute little faces, realistic little bodies, charming little outfits, and came complete with an $89 price tag. For obvious reasons, we put the babies back in their beds and left empty-handed.

Over a week later, I find myself regretting that we didn't buy one of those dolls. I know, I need slapped. No two-year old needs an $89 doll, even if she does take really good care of her toys and almost never asks for things when we are in a store and she would treasure that doll for years and she has been pretty well-behaved lately and it could wear real baby clothes and they were all so cute and


I want the doll.

There. I said it. I want the stupid $89 doll. However, we aren't about to jump in the car and drive two hours just to buy me a new doll. So, this morning I figured I would see if I could find them online. I asked Mr. Google for some custom made dolls and he showed me this:

Um, yeah. That's not exactly what I was looking for. Actually, that image kind of creeps me out. So I tried again and got this:


Clearly, we have a pattern on our hands. I knew there were a bunch of crazies living in the Internet and I knew there were doll crazies in this world, but I HAD NO IDEA the depths of loony the doll crazies could conjure if they found the Internet. I feel the need to share a few of the faces that will be haunting my dreams tonight. You're welcome.

These dolls aren't so bad, but those outfits are the stuff of nightmares. And maybe flashbacks, but I can't talk about that without my shrink in the room.

This one is 40 inches tall and I'm pretty sure she could kick my butt.

In fact, I'm pretty sure she knows how to use a puzzle piece as a ninja weapon of human destruction.

It looks like she already had her first victim:

You can tell me that all those scratches and bruises just make that thing look life-like, but I then get to tell you that you are wacked out. Dolls should not look like their faces were pulverized with a puzzle piece.

Nor should they have evil eyes that can bore holes in my soul.

While I'm pretty sure that doll is doing the devil's work, this one is just plain pissed off:

Her description claims that she is "lifelike and sweet." Um, yeah. Sweet. I must be confused as to the meaning of that word.

Speaking of pissed off dolls, check this one out:

You know what she's thinking? OK, nothing because she is a doll. But, if she were a kid? She would be thinking about how pissed off she is that someone took her picture while she had that doily on her head. That ain't nice.

This one isn't really all that bad:

But it's female counter-part sure is.

I swear on a big package of gummy worms, I have seen the grown-up human version of that doll working the night shift at Waffle House. However, I have never before seen a doll that looked like it smoked two packs a day.

This one is looking to heaven in hopes of having it's prayers heard. It's praying that the Harley chick drops her cigarette ash on that outfit and the whole thing goes up in a cloud of smoke.

At some point during my over-priced doll quest, I started to consider the idea of having a doll made that looks like Alexis. But then I saw this:

Say what you want, that is a 10 on the Creep-O-Meter if you ask me.

This one is about a 13 on the Creep-O-Meter:

Dolls should not look like they are straight out of somebody's va-jay-jay. Never.

I could keep going on for hours with all the scary stuff I found while trying to find a cute new doll that wouldn't give me nightmares, but I have a Penguins game to watch. So I'll leave you with this:

You are so very welcome.