A couple of weeks ago, Monkey Boy’s Sunday School teacher reported it was all boys in the class that day. Things got a little wild. She found a pillow case in the corner filled with all the dolls in the room. They were naked. One had a leg missing. There was a plastic saw next to the pillow case. It had a definite Silence of the Lambs feel to it. Super. Monkey Boy is hanging out with the next serial killer… or is the next serial killer… or this is perfectly normal behavior developmentally. The books are so unclear.
So I was slightly concerned when he found some of my old dolls. His track record is not so good. But he brought the bigger one to me and declared, “The big one is the Mama Doll. The little one is the Baby Doll. You be the Mama Doll.” This seemed like typical role play games he wants to play, except normally I get assigned to be a particular car.
“Hi, Mommy,” said Monkey Boy as the Baby Doll. “Hi, Baby,” I replied. “Mommy, I’m hungry,” he whined. Now this was a little more reality in playtime than I care for. I excused myself.
I came back later to find evidence of a vicious crime. Baby Doll had been de-legged. She did manage to remain clothed. So I’m blaming one of the other heathens in his Sunday School class for the pervy behavior with the other dolls. My boy is just your garden variety hacksaw murderer. I’m good with that.
But I hid the rest of my dolls… just to be safe.