|I'm a "you'd better sleep with one eye open" kind of cute!|
|Do you like Troll dolls? I like Troll dolls. Like them, or else..."|
My sister had an army of these atrocities. And my brother, who is really one of the funniest people on the planet, use to torture us by hiding them all over the house. You'd flip over the sheet to get into bed and greeted by one of these things staring at you. Bounding up the stairs you'd be face to face with one in a noose fashioned from the string that pulled down the ladder to the attic. Take a big gulp of your kool-aid and one of them would be staring at you, encased in a coffin of ice. I had nightmares about them for a loooooong time.
Years of therapy later, I had forgotten about these annoying plastic piles of hideous. I thought I was free. I no longer carried a mirror in my pocket to check around corners in case there was an army of them in my vanity, trying on all of my Wet N' Wild lip glosses. I ate breakfast in peace without finding them inside a lemon poppy seed muffin. Remember the ones you could squeeze so they could hold on to stuff? Yeah, they showed up in the shower, car, backpack for school, EVERYWHERE. I was free at last from their evil plastic death grip. You can imagine my surprise when I realized that I had given birth to them.
I'm in the laundry room and in my peripheral vision I spot one. Her hair is wild and pink (she must have gotten a hold of the sidewalk chalk again). Her arms are stretched out. She has a half crazed grimace. I try to deflect her advances with the door to the dryer - but she skirts away at the last second. She grabs on to my leg and won't let go no matter how hard I shake it.
I'm panicking. Oh, God. They're back. They're BACK! And now they can TALK!
20 years of R&D has brought "improvements" to the troll dolls. And, talk they do. Incessantly. It's like my worst nightmare has come true.
I'm folding my Mt. Kilimanjaro of laundry and one pops their head out from inside the pile. "What are you doing? What's your favorite season? My favorite season is spring, winter, summer, fall. When can we go to Massachusetts? Grammy's chocolate milk is better than yours." "Me are a good fowder. Dees is me shiwts."
I grab the only thing in my reach - the laundry basket - and fling it over the closest troll. And run down the hallway to safety. BUT THEY FIND ME. THEY ALWAYS FIND ME. And, ignoring the troll dolls doesn't make the talking stop. It just keeps going and going and becoming more inane.
Forced to find safety in the bathroom, I lock the door and turn on the fan. I hide in the tub like I've been told to do in case of an emergency - but it's no use. The pounding on the door gets louder as does the constant stream of commentary: "My favorite color is pink. What's your favorite color? Blue? Do you like that yucky puke green color? I hate it. What's for lunch? I want mac and cheese but not the yucky kind. The yummy Annie's and I guess I will eat the protein you always are blabbing about. I mean, who needs muscles?"
I scream "Go away! There's nothing for you here!" from my former sanctuary. But it's no use. I see troll fingers wiggling under the door. Troll arms are piling books next to the door. They have picked the lock. I close my eyes and pray for a quick death. Filthy troll hands pry open the shower door. "Me finded you! Me yove hide n seek!" "I'm so totally hungry and you're just relaxing in the tub. I mean, what's a girl gotta do to get some food around here?" "Yeah, me are stawving."
It's then I realize the trolls have won and I am back in their plastic clutches. I am being dragged down death row by singing trolls - smiling their serial killer grins. I am unceremoniously deposited in the kitchen to make them "yunch." I put a pot on the stove for some Annie's, chicken and broccoli. I make an addition to the grocery list: Aussie 3 Minute Miracle Conditioner - because the troll's hair needs some help like you read about. Good thing I have my therapist on speed dial.
|Make us some Annie's shells and cheese. Now, or else....|