I have a cheesy niece.
This picture is the result of a few things. My grandmother moving into a nursing home. Her having questionable taste in souvenirs. An unexpected visit from my brother, with Moo Juice in tow. Backing up about a week, when we came across this "shrunken head" (a coconut with a carved face), we laughed. And laughed some more. And named it Kristen Stewart, who no doubt will go down in history the butt of many jokes. I don't make the rules, tween girls, I just follow them as I see fit. My mother, when she first laid eyes upon this coconut, said George (my bro) should take it home and hang it above Mady's bed. Without telling her.
My mother, making small children cry since about 1967.
George actually left "Kristen" behind, so s/he wound up in our box of things saved from the move. During this time, Kristen became Maurice. And s/he spent most of the last week in that box. Enter George and Mady. Now, in times previous, Madalyn has been terrified of seemingly non-frightening things. A mechanical toy sloth (I think from Zooboomafoo? It's a somewhat popular character sloth.) A Fur Real Friends piglet. Kiddo is not a fan of animatronic toy animals. And family history has shown, the kids in later birth groups in our family do not like creepy stuff as small children. Halloween masks, Unsolved Mysteries, E.T. (see: my mother) are not on the list of things they tolerate. For sure, Kristen/Maurice would be on this list.
Mady is apparently much more badass now than she was almost three years ago.
She picked it up. Said "what is that?" My mom said it was her cousin's head. Mady was dubious. My mom continued to insist it was a head. I chimed in with "It's a coconut. That looks like a head. This is why people tell little kids to be careful, or they might 'crack their coconuts.'" She was still not having it, so she began carrying him/her around the house. I mentioned his name was Maurice, and she said "no, his name is
Daniel." Then she put a flower clip in his hair. I asked if Daniel was now Danielle, and she looked at me like I had worms wiggling out of my nose. "No, Kiki,
he's Daniel." Alrighty, Daniel, got it. I don't think Daniel had seen that much action since he came from whatever cruise ship/trip to the South Pacific/Florida that he did. My mom still insisted Daniel was Mady's new cousin, and should be hung above her bed, for morning frights. Daniel is still living at my mom's house. If I can find a screw-in hook, a small digital recorder and an mp3 of "Poor Little Ugly," I will have either successfully scared my mom, or made her pee her pants. I'm cool with either.
