Nothing Is Safe

We have a dog. His name is Rondo. Rondo is still technically a puppy and he has a chewing problem. He has a particular fondness for toys. And - apparently - no toy is tastier than a baby doll. Charlotte, being a somewhat typical three year old, loves baby dolls. She has quite a few of them. Their names are: Tiny Baby (because it's small), Naked Baby (self-explanatory), Glen Davis (she was formerly known as Big Baby, but Patrick renamed her and it stuck), and New Baby (a new baby - duh).

Recently, I posted a picture to Twitter of what happened after Rondo got to Naked Baby. This was all that remained:

Sophie, knowing my fear of dolls, thought it would be cute to leave the severed baby head at the end of my bed. Maybe she's been watching The Godfather, again?

Today, I stumbled upon a whole, new tragedy. Glen Davis (not the basketball player) is no longer with us. Now, Glen Davis used to creep me out all on her own. (Yes, Charlotte called the doll Glen Davis AND insisted it was a girl.)

Little creep giving me a thumbs-up

Now, we've reached horror movie level of scary:

Dear God, he pulled off the face!

GAH!

I see a resemblance...

My doll fears can all be traced back to Chucky, by the way. Thanks, dad, for never telling me "no" when I asked you to take me to a scary movie.

We're all a little traumatized by Rondo's latest doll massacre. Let's hope New Baby (a.k.a. Glen Davis, Jr.) can stay out of his jaws. I'll just be over here making sure all of the dolls are up high and singing Doll Parts by Hole. Wish me luck.

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-->Do you think dolls are creepy, too? Or have an obnoxiously destructive pet? Feel free to share your story in the comments below...