Dolls

I don't know what it is about my mom, but she loves dolls. 

I, on the other hand, think they're super creepy.


She thinks they're amazing. The more lifelike they are, the more excited she gets about them. Somewhere in the back of my storage closet is a porcelain doll that I have never played with, still encased in its original wrapping and box.
About 2 weeks before our trip, she went and found one that bears a strong resemblance to my friend's daughter, but with red hair.  I can't tell whether this makes her more or less scary.


She cradles this doll and rocks it as if it is a real human child.  What's worse is, she decided to prop it up like it was sitting on the windowsill. No matter where you were in our living room, it looked like this doll was staring at you.

We unpacked our boxes, and scary doll just happened to be inside one of them. Even here, she seems scary... It's not just me.  So I see my mom's sister cradling the doll in her arms. Maybe there's something about that generation that just grew up in a time where Chuckie movies didn't exist to make you believe that every miniature human replica could haunt your dreams and hurt you.

At least this means I don't have to come home to scary doll at the end of the month.

P.S. I was really tempted to post a picture of the doll, but I feel like it would result in me not wanting to actually view my own blog.  Ever.