I went ALL OUT and bought Tom a book about Big Bird hurting himself from the Target dollar bins.
Big Bird’s Doctor Visit.
The book has little pop-ups of Big Bird, Elmo, Oscar the Grouch, and some Elmo-like guy named Murray.
Tom L-O-V-E-S the book.
Psycho loves it.
He also psycho(tically) loves pulling the pop-ups heads off.
Me: Look, Tom! There’s Big Bird!
Tom: *pulls Big Bird’s head off*
Me: Look, Tom! There’s Elmo!
Tom: *pulls Elmo’s head off*
Me: Look, Tom! There’s some thing I’ve never seen before named Murray!
Tom: *pulls Murray’s head off*
But he still loves the book, so I still read it to him.
After all, it was a WHOLE DOLLAR. So I can’t be throwing this literary genius away.
But I feel that I must take liberties with the original literary genius since our images have changed somewhat. So now I am basically reading my toddler a horror story before he goes to bed.
“Big Bird, despite having his body torn off at the neck, and having watched his friends entire bodies being RIPPED APART, was having a great time roller-skating until…”
“The child happily returned to rip off HIS HEAD! His friends, who were very concerned, insisted they see a doctor. Rightly so.”
“Luckily, with Mommy’s helpful advice, such as, ‘Don’t do that, Tom!’ and a visit to the MOST AMAZING DOCTOR IN THE WORLD, the friends were magically put back together and Big Bird only had a sprained wing. Which wasn’t scary at all. The End.”
Sweet dreams, Tom!