Raw Drip

Tabitha’s creepy talking baby seems to have found a permanent home with us. Once I discovered the all important off switch on baby’s back side, Dick was okay with her.

But looking around my bedroom on any given morning, I’d venture to say that the almost magical appeal of that creepy talking baby has less to do with its ability to speak and more to do with the Tabitha’s grasp of her own creepiness.

Victim #1: The Sock Monkey

Since the infamous baby doll murder in the Target parking lot, Dick and I awaken each morning to find what amounts to a stuffed animal morgue in our bedroom. As we sleep in the pre-dawn hours, Tabitha quietly spreads her animals and baby dolls about the room, covered with tiny baby blankets, hand towels, and dinner napkins. It’s like a little scene from the Jonestown massacre, only without the charismatic leader or the Koolaid.

This morning was no different. As I staggered from my bed to the bathroom, my toe hit the delicate knit paw of Tabitha’s sock monkey covered by a dinner napkin. Nearby, Tabitha cautioned me in a whispered voice, “Be careful, mommy. The baby is sleeping.”

Carefully stepping over the sleeping monkey, I had almost made it safely to the bathroom when I stumbled across another victim, this one a baby doll whose sprawled figure could just be made out under the tiny yellow blanket.

Victim #2: The Baby Doll

“No. That’s the dead baby,’ she replied.

Gulp. Well – alrighty, then…

Like most concerned parents, Dick and I have begun saving up for psychological counseling. We hope to be able to send Tabitha for help soon. Just in case, I think we should modify our retirement savings plans to include the cost of keeping a good defense attorney on permanent retainer.