Short stories with a comical twist on the daily obstacles, aka adventures, of parenthood

Tag: eyelashes

Judy the Possessed Doll

Izzy was crying in the middle of the night – I know, that sounds normal for a 9-month-old. But it was an “I’m scared” type of cry. I ran into her room. Her high pitch whimpers couldn’t be soothed with her favorite blanket, milk, or pacifier. What is wrong? …

It must be – the new doll that she got is possessed!

I was afraid of dolls growing up, so I never got Izzy one. Since we found that lashes help her sleep [read post here], I wanted to give Izzy a toy with lashes, blinking eyes, and long soft hair – the only toy I could think of is a doll. It would be an opportunity to eliminate the fear once and for all, as I comforted myself. Surprisingly, it took me a while to find the right one because dolls these days don’t have the lashes and rolling eyes anymore (which allows them to blink). Maybe there’s a reason – they’re evil! Finally, I found a harmless looking doll at Walmart that had the lashes but no hair – good enough.

I just bought this doll yesterday; she is still in the living room. Izzy was attracted to her immediately because the eyelids “blink” when she plays with the lashes – we named the doll Judy. It must have sneaked into the room, wanting revenge because Izzy was stabbing her eyes. Perhaps it ran away when Izzy woke up. I immediately closed the bedroom door and snuggled closely under the covers of the guest bed with Izzy. I want to face my fears; I should go out and prove that this is all my imagination. Scenarios raced through my mind – what if Judy is waiting for me?

She can be standing outside the door, back towards me, and then slowly turn her head 180 degrees with her innocent smile.

Or she can be down the dark hallway, in the shadows holding a sharp object, then she’ll sprint full speed in attack mode.

Izzy finally stopped crying and started dozing off in my arms. Other than the ocean wave noise coming out of our sound machine, it is pretty quiet. Wait, did I just hear a creak? Our new floorboards creak with every step. I started sweating; she is coming for us. Usually, when I needed help, I’ll call for DT sleeping in the other room, but I was afraid that Judy would harm him instead, so I kept quiet this time.

I wonder if she can talk, I can almost hear the hysterical laughter echoing through the walls. I looked towards the door, envisioning that it’ll slowly start opening. The small night light in the room casts a shadow over the furniture.

My eyes strained in the dark to see if there are any movements, perhaps she’s in here already.

After about an hour (or two?), I dozed off, thinking I should’ve gotten a stuffed toy and crazy glued the lashes on it instead.

The first thing in the morning was to return the doll to Walmart. That evening, I was on the lookout to make sure Judy didn’t find her way back – luckily she didn’t. After scouring the internet for hours, I found a stuffed cow with lashes, on Amazon – no reviews, and it was $30, but it looks harmless – let’s give it a shot.

Lashes Addiction

What is that soft, silky feeling on my fingertips? Let me try that again – my fingers gently sweeping over my eyes. “Eyelashes,” murmured mommy every time I touched it. I like it – Eyelashes. At six months old, I realized touching my eyelashes would put me to sleep. Two months later, while lying next to my parents, I realized they have lashes too – must be a genetic thing. Hmm…would touching their lashes also give me the same drowsy effect?

My two little hands comb the air, like tentacles of an octopus searching for prey.

Once I know their head’s general direction, my hands swiftly glide through their chin, nose, and finally land on their eyes. With a quick sweep through the lashes, I gain instant gratification as my entire body relaxes; as if all the burdens of being a child are lifted (it is a lot of responsibility being cute and cuddly, you know).

Sometimes, it’s annoying if they changed positions when my hands are still on their lashes and I was just about to fall asleep. To be fair, it probably doesn’t help that my hand rests on their nose for support. It is particularly funny when I hear them breathing through their mouth when they have a stuffy nose. Still, my hands would frantically search the air again, fingers twitching for the lashes, and accidentally stab their eyes with my little fingers in desperation.

Oops, that was an accident.

When I find my prize again, I’ll comb lightly over their lashes once more, back and forth until I finally drift off.

After a few months, they gave me multiple toys with lashes on it; one of them was a doll that I enjoyed. However, it miraculously disappeared the next day (that’s a story for another time). Eventually, a stuffed cow with lashes was the keeper, it’s not as good as mommy’s and daddy’s lashes, but it’ll do.

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