We went through it a few times with the teenager. Creepy obsessions that were hard to understand. The Black Veil Brides rock band, anything to do with the Twilight movies. The two guys from Supernatural. We now have something a bit different going on with the little one. Different, but just as bizarre.
The child that I have often celebrated for the diversity of her toy choices and vastness of her imagination no longer has time for Barbie or Batman. No more pony riding pirates fleeing from Mickey Mouse and his motorcycle gang. No more dentist offices for dinosaurs or Stormtrooper dance parties. Right now it is all about her Babies.
They are an odd bunch, these Babies. A motley collection of outsiders that she has called together from the deepest recesses of her toy chest. Two plastic baby dolls, different in size but sharing the same horrifying facial features. A really raggedy old thing that may have once been her older sister’s Cabbage Patch. A naked Dora the Explorer and a Baby-Alive that she somehow keeps finding batteries for. The completely inexplicable ringleader a Curious George stuffed animal.
It began innocently enough. Monkey led tea parties are not entirely unusual around here. Several days passed before we realized how completely this sinister six was beginning to take over our lives.
Bedtime is now an hour-long process. Each Baby needs their teeth brushed, potty break, and individual tucking into their new sleeping arrangements. Before leaving for school each one needs to be kissed and hugged, assurances made that I will take proper care of them.
Trips to the park are now for The Babies’ amusement, not hers. Other children are ignored. Improvised car seats have been made for their safety and old bottles pulled from the back of the cabinet. Her washtub and feeding chair have been brought up from the basement and dusted off. A box of diapers found in a closet keeps them all dry and free of poop. The monkey seems to poop more than the others.
I tell myself that it’s just a phase. That soon she’ll remember all the other toys that are currently being neglected. That this baby obsession is much better coming from her than my wife. Hopefully this return to normalcy, this exile of George and his minions back to the toy chest, will happen sometime soon. We are dangerously close to running out of diapers.
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This post was previously published on ThirstyDaddy and is republished here with permission from the author.
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Photo credit: Jeremy Barnes