random thoughts – Day 2,416 (Wednesday 10/28) – baby naughty

Baby Naughty,
ready for mayhem.

My eldest niece arrived home yesterday from Vegas for a visit and today Mom and I went to Sis’s house. Niece #1 is working remotely during her visit and we gathered during her lunch break. It is always fun at Sis’s house because Sis, her husband, and her daughters have jobs working with the public and go on adventures that means they have lots of funny and outrageous true stories. 

Stuff like managers "helping" and changing all the descriptions on a list of loans in process, accidentally calling a manager the dorky nickname given to a sister's boyfriend,  dumb jokes customers tell at a banking counter, car rental breakdown on a honeymoon, a history of rainstorms on camping trips, and so on. I kind of miss having my own current stories about funny/ loud/ annoying colleagues and misadventures and definitely enjoy hearing about theirs. And I need to improve my adventure game. 

In addition to the amusing true tales, my sister usually has fun seasonal decor in the house. When the girls were young, there were decorations for holidays and seasons major and minor, including a year-round tree with décor that rotated to include Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Independence Day, Halloween, and football season.

Plotting murder?

This year’s Halloween décor features “Baby Naughty.” Baby Naughty is a creepy baby doll that may have escaped from a horror movie and found its way to my sister’s house by way of Mummu and someone who was giving away kids toys. When weird things would happen at the house, like an odd noise, a missing item, a new crayon drawing on a wall, Baby Naughty was blamed. During football season, Baby Naughty often sported a creepy football head and was parked in a chair.

Baby Naughty is creepy enough that the family is afraid to dispose of it. The fear is it would return and unleash a true horror story. This season, Baby Naughty is in rare form. With a miniature meat cleaver at hand, Baby Naughty is perched on the top level of a six-foot tall pantry shelf, watching us eat lunch, ready to cause mayhem. Like plotting our murders by baby meat cleaver.  Oh, Baby Naughty.