Mothers, Lock Up Your Daughters...

...For there is a DEEPLY disturbing doll out there. But first, I shall hold you hostage with my vacation recap! (I'm crafty like that.)

We've spent the past week-and-a-half traipsing across New York and New Jersey, visiting J’s family and my own. We started off at J’s parents’ house in Long Island, where we hung out with them, as well as his sister, my brother-in-law, and their unreasonably cute kids. Have I mentioned the cuteness? For it is abundant. There was much playing, a severe lack of napping, and general nonstop action. Oh, and many fun presents for Toopweets.

While we were sad to go, we then made our way to my parents in New Jersey. Also at Casa…uh…Metalia’s Parents was my cousin and her boyfriend (in addition to said parents, my two brothers, my brother's girlfriend, and us). Oh, and my parents’ big-ass dog. Toopweets quickly fell in love with the dog, and proceeded to have the time of his life, attempting to chase the damn thing everywhere. I say “attempting,” as he can only move by rolling or crawling backwards, and he was thus not as successful as he might have hoped. (Ordinarily, I’d be leery of my sweet potato-coated babe chasing after a fanged carnivorous animal, but you must understand--this is the dumbest, slowest dog in the history of the world.)

Miraculously, Toops continued to go to bed at his regular early bedtime, which freed us up to do many important things, such as play a never-ending and cutthroat game of Taboo with the aforementioned crew. J and I are an unstoppable Taboo machine, but all the couples split up to make the game interesting. (You know, unlike this post.) J has an uncanny knack of being able to take any partner and form a winning Taboo team, even if he barely knows them. He’s like an Eastern European gymnastics coach circa 1976, only without the mustache and emotional abuse. Needless to say, he and his teammate (my cousin’s boyfriend) won. I feel like you never leave a game of Taboo without learning something new and weird, and this time, it was the fact that there is a song entitled “Lesbian Seagull.” (Which my cousin sang to me, sans the “seagull” part, as she tried, in vain, to have me guess that word. Seriously, I had no idea that this was a song. Did you?)

Awesomely, our trip coincided with the visit of our good friends from Cali; we got to see them, too, along with their gorgeous little girl. My parents’ house is well-equipped with all manner of toys, and in anticipation of their arrival, my mom pulled out a dollhouse. As she placed the attendant dolls out on the floor, my father made a face of abject horror, and said, “Good Lord! What IS that?!”

“That” turned out to be a doll, which, from my angle, seated on the floor with Toopweets, looked perfectly innocent...

She is rockin' that camel toe!

...but from my (standing) dad's vantage point, appeared to be something else entirely...

...which was then confirmed by my mother, who was seated:

Don’t tell me this is an accident, LITTLE TIKES!

Of course, we needed to confirm that we were not alone; using the doll as our Rorschach Test of the Dirrrrty, we quite literally thrust (hee!) the doll at anyone who happened to come by, demanding that they tell us what they saw. We were relentless; we did it to my grandmother, my neighbor…In fact, I’m fairly certain that if your grandmother were there, we would’ve asked her, too. Good god. Between this and my last two posts, this blog is fast descending into "found porn" territory. Tomorrow: A post about rainbows, ponies, and daisies!

In other news, I've abandoned my longtime lovah, the Starbucks Cinnamon Dolce Latte, for its new friend, Dulce de Leche Latte, and I haven't looked back. Look into it; it is indescribably delicious.