When I think about it, it's no wonder kids are freaked out by toys. I mean, when I was a wee little lass, the most the toys would do to you was stare at you with a maniacal frozen stare, causing you to imagine they wanted to chew your feet off at the ankles while you stood paralyzed in fear, until you fell down because you no longer had feet, just stumps pulsating buckets of blood onto the walls of your room. It was basically a battle between you and your imagination, see?
Well wait, there was Kissing Barbie; she had a puckered face and a button on her back, which when you pressed it made her head move as if she were trying to lay a peck on Ken. Her head was hard. Rock hard. You couldn't push her nose in and cause her to look like she OD'd on Alum, like the other dolls. I had to know what was making her head so hard. 7-year-olds are curious that way...
So, my friend and I decided to do some surgery, and well, we peeled her face right off. Encased in her rubber face was a plastic skull, which I am sure James Cameron based the Terminator's skull off of. Freaked.me.out. I immediately took the face and skull and chucked them into my neighbor's yard, hoping they would mow over it before it rolled its way back into my house to attack me in my sleep.
And then there was that Winking Western Barbie. Cripes. She was like the Crypt Keeper with a makeover. And a cowboy hat. She had that one huge eye with plastic eyelashes? Again, push her back and she would wink at you as if to say, "Don'tcha worry hon, I won't KILL you!" *wink wink*. ACK!
So I had to rip her eyelashes off. And then I threw her away.
But these days, toys have batteries. And make noises. And move. And I swear they have some sort of evil soul, as they refuse to die when the batteries are obviously ready to move on.
I mean, have you ever walked past a baby doll or some battery-operated creature in the store and have it cry, yell, or bust out in song at you? I went all ninja one time on a babydoll in Kroger. Had my husband not been there to distract me with his outburst of laughter I might have been arrested. Seriously. These toys should be outlawed.
So, take the Tickle Me Elmo doll for example. That piece of...red fluffy fabric had a seizure every time you touched it, and it begged for you to "tickle Elmo again!" immediately after the minute-long, agonizing seizure. So like an idiot you did, over and over, and then you would put him on the linoleum, and watch him gyrate around. Then you would put him next to your sleeping Chihuahua, and let him scare the crazap out of your dog, and then you would put him under the couch pillow so grandma could get a good buzz and laugh. After all that fun you would give it to your kid, and the batteries were obviously getting low, because then Elmo was like, "tiiiiiiiickle Elllllmo ahhhhh...." so you think, good! I was getting bored with this thing anyway! Then Elmo gets lost in the toys on your kid's floor.
Until 2 am...
I would always go into check on my kids late at night, because we all know how stressful it can be, trying to fall asleep with toys threatening to take you down at the first sound of a snore. And even though I would always assure them that nothing was gonna happen, I would so want to say, "yeah, when I was your age I thought my Bert puppet was going to grow legs, run over to my bed and kill me!!!" But that would not help.
So once I made sure the kids were asleep, I started my way out the room only to step on something soft and hear the darkest, deepest, guttural, growling demon spawn groan I had ever heard,
Every hair stood up on my body, (and in those days of extreme child rearing there were a lot) and I stood frozen, pretty sure I was about to fall over due to freshly chewed bloody stumps. Garnering all the bravery I could, I rummaged for the crazed monster and took it out of their room. I wasn't taking any chances.
But then I regained my age and, instead of removing the batteries, I tortured my husband with the thing for about 20 minutes. Then the next morning I called my dad and had Elmo answer his "hello". Dad wasn't phased, but instead super proud of himself because he was the one who bought the possessed machine...
I buried Elmo in an undisclosed location and we left the state.
PS It was my daughter's bday today. Guess what she got? A cute little dinosaur called, Screature, who screams, growls and tries to bite your fingers off if you pet him the wrong way. I am NOT joking! Oh, and it shoots water at you, like from 5 feet away. Awesome. I'll get the shovel...