It's the stuff of nightmares, maybe the true monster under the bed. It brings the same reaction Freddy Kruger would if he came sneering into the room. It's terrifying, horrific, alarming, dreadful, shocking, horrendous, spine-chilling and every other synonym my thesaurus can come up with.
This is the face of hell in our house.
Um, yeah, it's my daughter's new baby doll. Scary, huh? She seemed fine with it in the store.
But we got that green-eyed baby home and wham! - pure hate and fear. She wouldn't touch the thing, and if I got it near her, she'd pull away like I was holding a cobra with its hood flared.
This was the closest she would get after a few hours - a look from a distance.
Then the "if I don't see it, it isn't there" approach.
It's funny, I thought the ritual of buying the "first" baby doll would be a sweet memory shared between Georgia and I, a mommy/daughter bonding moment. Well, if that includes scaring the hell out of my daughter - memory achieved!