Light Notes

The Curse of Baby Alive returns

They are the words every mother longs to hear.

“You were right, Mom,” moaned our daughter, Traci.

My heart leapt with joy!

I was right? Could it be? Please tell me once again.

“What was that you said, dear?” I shouted for emphasis on my cell phone.

“I said you were right,” Traci repeated. “Baby Alive has kept me busy all day, just like you told me it would do.”

I smiled, thinking how great it was we weren’t talking on Skype. At least she couldn’t see my face.

“The doll only came with three diapers and Hailey used them up in less than an hour,” Traci’s tale of woe continued.

I remembered the Baby Alive of yesteryear had had the same problem. We’d finally resorted to cutting up dish cloths on Christmas day. At least Traci had the luxury of a roll of paper towels.

Still, I couldn’t resist playing dirty.

“What happened to the potty chair you said would change things this time around?” my merriment leaking through the phone line.

Traci’s complaints continued, “As soon as Hailey feeds the doll, you have to run like crazy to the potty.”

I wasn’t sure if she meant her or Baby Alive. But from what I was hearing, her morning was enough to make anyone sick to their stomach.

“Well, at least Hailey’s enjoying her dolly,” I comforted.

“Oh, she’s not playing with it anymore,” Traci sighed into the phone. “Now she’s playing the Wii guitar.

It sounded like relief was in sight.

“So what’s Hunter doing?” I inquired about the other 5-year-old twin.

There was a lengthy pause.

“He’s playing with Baby Alive,” Traci groaned.

I had been right. A mother’s work is never done -- especially when Baby Alive shows up.