disclaimer or something

A mummy-hand holding, (former) biker gang affiliating, hippie influenced semi crunchy granola mom's ramblings and reminisings on an off-kilter life

Tuesday, November 12, 2013


Elmo is a cute fuzzy muppet monster. A monster. A scary monster from Hell.

My mother in law bought an Elmo cash register toy for my son for his birthday last year and he loved it....until the dog decided to pee all over it in the middle of the night. Being the middle of the night and in the forest, I was a) too tired to clean it or properly dispose of it b) did not feel like fending off bears in the outside garbage can. So, I simply opened the door (mumbling yuck pee eew...) and tossed it outside over the deck.

I was 9 months pregnant, so hiking down our steep side yard to actually throw it away seemed undesirable and I figured next time we cleaned the yard.

All night, the Elmo toy mumbled, "pizza two dollars"; luckily you could not hear it from inside. The next day and night, pizza two dollars. After 48 hours of this, it rained and the Elmo toy died.

Or so we thought.

Two months later, my husband let the dogs out to pee and he comes back in, shaking his head, "Elmo is alive!"

And later that night, Elmo must have run out of batteries.

Or not.

About a week ago, our dog was standing on the deck, catatonic, like he does if there is a bear or cougar in the neighborhood. Not wanting to encounter a hungry animal, I scream at him to get the **** inside when...I hear, you guessed it, "pizza two dollars". This went on for two days straight.

And guess what I heard this morning? Hell-mo and his pizza.
I have never replaced the batteries on a year old, often played with Hell-mo toy from Hell. It has been chanting about pizza, without being touched, for days and days. It isn't supposed to. "Talk" without being touched. It isn't supposed to work for days and days at end.
I think it's possessed.

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