Hello everyone, I have had something come home to me recently from Homer Jr. He is a classmember of the group of elite males and females, in the long fought for class of seniors this year. He is also a member of a class with the impressive sounding name of Parenting for Responsible Young Adults. Hummm..... I am yet to be impressed, cause he is taking the class along with 17 other seniors who had to take the class so they could actually fill in their school day to get to the next class, of keyboarding. Yeah, a fluff class. But the teacher takes this very seriously. Very seriously! To the point of talking the school board into buying 3, not 1, but 3 of these 300 dollar "real babies". What ever happened to the smelly memographed sheets we used to get? They cost what? half a cent each? humm......
Any how, these baby dolls come in a variety of skin colors, and of course, both sexes. Homer Jr. got a girl baby with caucasian skin color. They are anatomaically correct as well as have the ability to scream bloody murder, drink a bottle and need a diaper change. They also will report if you handle them roughly, do not see to their immediate cry of distress, and they will go into the worst kind of hiccuping squall if they need to be burped. Yes, I said burped. They also make a cooing sound( sounds like Marilyn Monroe and her speech to Mr. President) and he has to record all of this in a little notebook. Every sound this kid of plastic and computer chips makes, he is supposed to record in this little book. He has a plastic bracelet with a magnetic key on it that is permanently, for 3 days, anyway, attached to his wrist. It is the only way to shut the thing up when it gets wound up, or so the little direction booklet tells you. And this lovely, dedicated, totally serious teacher is the one who programs the way the "real baby" is timed to do all this wonderous responsiblity inducing " stuff". ( I am excited, how about ya'll?)
After I found out this Dedicated Teacher is 25, single, and not a kiddie in sight, I was seriously considering moving in with the gophers for 3 days! I didn't, but oh my, at 3:30 in the morning being awakened by a 17 year old male who is almost crying, and the thing from the Chuckie factory is in full wailing mode, a nicely placed phone call at that time in the morning to Ms. Dedicated teacher, did cross my mind, but Homer Jr. begged me to just make the thing shut up, and not get himself on the, no Christmas Card list, of his teacher. What are you going to do? Yeah, you guys know I didn't do it, but man oh man would it have felt so wonderful! sigh, I am a wuss.
I got to tell you, I never in my whole entire time of being a parent, had a child act like this thing did! I mean it would not even change pitch of the crying jag it was on. It was just a constant, and never changing scream! Lord have mercy, I did everything I knew a real baby would respond to, even if it was a hiccuping kind of scream instead of this banshee from hell, kind of mind scrambling thing, we had going on. I know I should not have done it, but I got a screwdriver and took the plate off the battery holder and took the batteries out of the thing! Well a Mom's gotta do what a Mom's gotta do, ya know!
HomerJr., poor guy, was grateful, but also apprehensive about what his teacher would think, and what kind of grade he would get because of the interference of his parent on his responsibility homework. I told him if she gave him any crap to call me, and I would be glad to have a talk with her, and the principal, or the superintendant, and I am best friends with the president of the school board! Why not, go for the big guns, ya know?
We put the batteries back in cautiously, hoping for a change in mood after about 15 minutes. And the *************ing thing cooed at us! We wrote it in the notebook. We didn't do anything, honest. At least that is our story and we are sticking to it.
He had to work the next day, and he figured out how to take the magnet part off the bracelet and so, yeah you guessed it, I had to babysit. OMG! I put it on the bed and went about doing the laundry folding, while it watched me from its little never shutting eyes, that follow you wherever you go in the room. This thing is so spooky people, I kept my screwdriver in my back pocket, for emergencies and stuff, you know! ( No wonder I am half insane most of the time, Homer is still gopher hunting at odd times of the night, my dog, well is my dog, and now the chuckie clone is living in my house!)type and smile, type and smile!
I made it till just about an hour before Homer Jr. was to be home, ( poor guy, he called to see how his baby was doing, since she had a bad night the night before!)and the thing wanted to get a bottle. It is okay, but it makes these little," gunk, gunk" sounds, and then it coos every minute or so....... and you have to document what sound and the time it makes it, in the little notebook. Sheesh, the thing drank and cooed for 30 minutes! For real, I am not lying people, 30 minutes, and then it wanted to be burped. But it would not burp. I walked around for another 30 minutes bouncing it on my shoulder, patting gently on its back, every time I quit the massive earsplitting squall resumed. Now remember I had to also write all this down in the book. Grew that third hand, yes I did, and his name was Homer. I told him to get in there and tend to his grandchild! And he did!!! Wow!
He named her Homerellen, and even though he tried all his fatherly tricks, the thing still was not cooperating. I went to check on the gophers for a while..... I left him my screwdriver.
Poor Homer Jr. came home and took over. I was still hearing them at 2 am. I finally got up and gave him the screwdriver, he said thanks, and I left the room, silence reigned once again in about 3 minutes, until I heard Homer Jr. snoring.
All in all, he got a 92 on his homework, and the teacher did not even get an inkling that the batteries had been removed. I really regret not getting a recording of the banshee scream. I might need to help another parent in a assault and battery charge pressed by The Dedicated Teacher! Hey, I am always there for a fellow tortured parent if needed, don't cha know! hehehe
We did everything any responsible parent of a honest to goodness real fake baby would do, and did nothing to cheat at all. That is our story anyway, and we are sticking to it!
hehehehehee
lockerridge
My ex-step daughter from hell never had one of those things...she got knocked up and shelled a real one out a month before her 16th b'day (and wondered why she didn't get a car for a present). Grandpa and Grandma (oh that was a hard-fought but won divorce) got the privelege of showing a kid how to care for a kid...and it didn't go away after 3 days.
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