We’re Very Mature Adults …

There’s something you need to know about the Hubbs: He’s a jokester and he loves to mess with me.

NOT what I was expecting to see.

So I really shouldn’t have been surprised to open our linen closet door and find myself face-to-face with a creepy doll.

I jumped back with a “Gaah!” and shut the door. Hubbs was sitting at his computer with his ear buds in, so he didn’t notice me until I threw a towel at his head.

“Punk!”

“What?” He popped his ear buds out and I rolled my eyes at him.

“You’re a PUNK.”

He grinned at me. “Found him, huh?” He snickered. “You’re lucky its a big doll. My original plan was to put him at the bottom of a box of tampons and cover him up, so that one day when you’re reaching in there in a hurry, you’d pull him out instead!” He practically howled with laughter.

“I’m so going to get you back.”

“Uh-huh,” he popped his ear buds back in and turned to the computer.

Oh, it won’t be hard. All I have to do is sneak up on him and grab him. I do it — unintentionally — all the time. Its a habit learned from many years of quietly padding around my parents’ house, trying to sneak up on my Dad to scare him. My brother and I were obsessed with it, since my father’s favorite thing to do was to hide behind doors and corners in the middle of the night and jump out and scare the bejeezus out of us when we walked by. (We also like to torment the Hubbs by scaring him when he walks out of the bathroom at night. We’re sadistic like that.)

Totally gross.

But back to the creepy doll. It was a gift to our son from a family friend. I’m sure it was a lovely gift, but it gives me the creeps. “Chucky” creeps. Its still sitting in my linen closet. I haven’t decided where I’ll hide him yet.

We also play this “game” with an ugly old fox skin the Hubbs has from the way-back machine.

It started with him hiding it under the covers on my side of the bed after I told him it creeped me out.

Admitting that? Giant mistake.

I laughed at him, tossed it on the floor, and went to sleep. The next day when he was in the shower, I stuck it in his underwear drawer, nose up.

Two days later, I found it in my jacket pocket.

And so it goes.

I was actually pretty annoyed when I found it in my pantyliner box, since they’re not individually wrapped and that’s just gross.

I’m still trying to figure out where I’m hiding it next. In a cocktail glass? In a pair of socks? In a pant pocket?

The possibilities are endless.

But that freaking doll still creeps me out.

"They're coming to get you, Barbara!"

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