Mom, Dad – Is Thomas in your attic? I need to know.
OK. Moving on.
I’m only going to do this one more time, at least today. Because right now the horse is already dead. And I am beating it with very little mercy.
This Daylight Savings thing. I thought we’d made it through unscathed. Why was I thinking that? Am I above natural law? On Sunday, I thought perhaps I was developing that skill. And I am thankful that Sunday was smooth and pleasant from start to finish. But that was Sunday. And we’re at Tuesday now.
I typically blog at night. You might note the fact that I didn’t last night. That’s because I had been whipped about the head and neck all day by my four short people and two extras. Four + two more makes SIX. Not just a regular six, either. Six that are under the influence of DSAUTODT. What does that stand for? Well, I’ll tell you. Daylight Savings Time is a completely false term. As I stated on Sunday, we aren’t saving anything. We didn’t save up over six months and have an extra hour to spend here. We stole it. We shifted it around unnecessarily and to our detriment. So I’m sitting at my own boardroom table and changing the name. Daylight Shifting Around Unnecessarily To Our Detriment Time. DSAUTODT. If you practice, you can develop a pronunciation for that. It’s sure to catch on once I reach the right people. The fact that it is slightly hard for the tongue and palate is a reflection of the pain the change inflicts. At any rate, the kids were crabby. Crabby like they’d taken a pill to transform them into an angry, hungry, mid-hibernation, bear with no conscience. Angry with enough energy to launch a space shuttle. Really I’m only talking about the middle children. They were a mess.
Today is a new day. With a new announcement. No, people. There is no fifth kid. Please go bother someone with only three. Better yet, really go bother someone with two. I’m off the market.
There has been much attention paid to Babe, the Snappshots doll. (By “much attention”, I mean that of the 10 people who stop by here regularly, 4 are quite bothered. Just wanted to clarify that the numbers here are not staggering ones.) I’ve heard everything from keep her, we love her to please no more pictures of abandoned sad little dolls. Fair enough. I will no longer photograph her abandoned. But in all fairness to me, I would like to point out that she is A DOLL. Not a real baby. She isn’t really even the representation of a real baby. She’s a real baby’s plaything.
But that’s an argument we can’t settle. What I’m noticing, though, is that many, many people have doll stories. A large portion of these stories are scary doll stories. A doll that haunted you as a child. A doll that started out cute and somehow three weeks later had all of its hair standing on end with the glassy-eyed gaze of a woman scorned. How DOES that happen? But there have also been stories of sweet dolls, funny dolls, sad dolls surfacing. Discovery Channel has Shark Week. Snappshots has EXTREME DOLL WEEK. Send me your stories, pictures, blurbs, poems, videos. Anything that depicts, verbally or photogenically, a doll, past or present, that is extreme in some way. Starting Monday, March 21, I will begin posting the more extreme things that come through. So if you’ve got something EDW worthy, send me an email at missy at snappshots dot com. I’ve already received two things that are definitely going up next week. This is a theme with promise.
I’ll leave you with an example of the creepy, since it is what you’ve come to expect of me. I borrowed this one from a friend’s garage (sorry, friend…please don’t be offended by this). She had a look in her eyes that is going to keep me up at night. So I set her in my hallway last night and promptly forgot I had done so. THREE TIMES this morning she scared the daylights (DSAUTODT) out of me. She also got an immediate remark from my 4-yr-old as she came down the stairs this morning, AND scared my 9-yr-old son. Twice. With dolls like this, who needs a pit bull?
The 9-yr-old actually screamed a little when he came around the corner to this…
And….carry on.
Snappshots.com 
Love the idea!!
If anyone EVER gives my daughter one of those dolls that has eyes that open and close, it’s going “away.” Do you hear me?!? AWAY!!!!
Yes, I think Thomas is in our attic though I haven’t looked for him (her). Let me know what you need.
i am going to start a search for “creepy eric”. a boy doll (yes, that ups the creep factor by 3) that my mom had sitting in the breakfast area. creepy didn’t appear until after we all went to college and i think my mom talked to him over breakfast when we weren’t home. my sister may have kept him. in her attic. wait until you get that photo. prepare to never sleep again… not that you were going to get any sleep during DSAUTODT. and i am with you on this “we are not really saving any daylight” thing. i have already promised to vote for any political candidate that runs on an “abolish time changing” policy. creepy eric will vote for that candidate also. and be his mascot.
Why is it that I love the idea of DST–the being able to ride bikes after dinner, the wonderful sunsets after dinner, the beautiful well-lit house after dinner… but then “after dinner” brings the most chaotic children to my home?!!! And since it’s still too early for them to go to bed, it seems as if the day is longer than it was before (and thankfully mine slept in the past two mornings!). I don’t get it.
That doll looks a lot like the doll in my closet from my childhood. I loved her at the time but everyone else thinks she looks creepy. I’ll possibly send a photo .
Missy, I like your doll. Simplicity… in a mildly creepy kind of way. Keep her!