File 82 - The Demented with The Darling

This week has been full of surprises.  A couple of unexpected events that mixed up the pandemic polka.  Things that altered the current state of affairs and, ultimately, changed the future structure of our family.  Albeit, the occurrences were completely unrelated, timing is a curious thing.  It has also made me question, if maybe I had misjudged one of my greatest foes.  

It is no secret, that I hate dolls (see File 5 - Doll Face).  The porcelain figurines crafted inside the gates of hell and sent to terrorize all humans, young and old.  Their mocking smiles and penetrating eyes, a weak attempt to cover up the wickedness that exists within.  It is impossible to contain the shudder when I come across one of them being given away on one of those buy nothing groups.  Begging the question - why though?  Why send that depravity out there?  Just do everyone a favour and burn that thing in the backyard.  

So, you can imagine my absolute horror, when I came out of my house this week, to find one of these devil babies on my porch.  And this was no basic baby doll, let me tell you.  She had one eye blacked out, was missing her shoe and was holding her braid in her hand.  Her. Braid. In. Her. Hand.  She did not come to play.  Or, I guess she did...?  

It took me several minutes to wipe the appalled look off of my face and gain my composure.  All the while, this murder maven of misfit toys staring me down.  Once my wits returned, I knew that there was only one person who could be responsible for this atrocity.  Someone who loved me enough, to mutilate a doll, face lit up by moonlight and cackling, and then leave her on my doorstep, while my family slept.  And sure enough, when I texted said friend, she emphatically copped to the stunt.  Elated at her villainous plan.  I don't feel so bad about the Wu-Tang shame now.  True friendship forged through fear and nineties hip-hop.  This porcelain fiend was the first surprise of the day.  Which I left.  On the step.  I wasn't f**king with that!

The second surprise was close to home, as well.  Although, not in the form of a demon in a deck chair, but rather a text message from our neighbour.  She knew of someone who was fostering puppies for adoption.  In this family, we have been having the dog debate for a couple of years now.  Not if, but when.  What type.  Where from.  So many questions to find the woof.  But, all of a sudden, here are these sweet little fur babies, who need to find a home.  In possibly one of the quickest decisions of my life, we adopted one of those pups.  Ya, we did!  And, just as sure as there is still a possessed doll on my front step, I knew it was meant to be.  

What is that saying about every action?  I have decided to take the good with the bad, on this one.  The monstrosity with the majestic.  The demented with the darling.  To come to the conclusion that this devil doll brought us our adorable puppy boy.  

Now, if someone could come and get her off of my step, so that she could bring them some luck, too. Seriously.  I'm not touching her.  

Does Mommy need to lose her shit?

Not this week.