Strange goings-on at our house.
Per my last post, Woody was MIA. Last night and this morning we *tore*the*house*and*garage*and*cars*apart looking for Woody. Just as Dave was heading out to buy a replacement Woody during Three Year Old's nap, I checked one last time in a bag we had emptied out three times.
Woody was sitting right on top.
There are two explanations for this - the first being that Woody was there all along, and we didn't see him. This, dear readers, is not possible. The second explanation is that Woody had a big night out, meeting with cowgirls at the Caravan and letting them pull his...string, then came back home and waited in a very unlikely place to be found.
Quite frankly, it's creeping me out a little bit.
But, if Woody is indeed capable of moving about on his own volition, like in the movie, he is obviously a benign sort of possessed toy, as he hasn't attempted to kill us in our sleep or anything...yet.
Have I mentioned that one of my greatest fears is dolls that talk? Thank you, Rod Serling's "Twiglight Zone".
As my Dad said, it's probably best not to examine this too closely...just be glad that Woody is home, and don't look a gift Woody in the mouth.