Naming Monsters

You can’t make this stuff up. And no, there’s no redeeming value in the telling of this tale. But this afternoon I’m sitting in the car with three of my g-babies while my daughter, Devyn, runs into the toy store to buy birthday present for a friend.

Kindergarten Tennyson climbs up front with me. “My mom’s going to buy Rosie a Monster High doll.”

“Which one?”

Her little eyes roll back and forth, the way they do when she thinks hard. “Let’s see…I’ve got Frankie. Atticus has Lagoona. Rosie’s gonna get Draculaura!”

I pretend to feel left out. “What about me—what should I get?”

She sighs and does a couple more eye rolls.

Tennyson’s my eldest, and as you can see from the photos, she’s the one who gets into the spirit of Halloween with me, so I growl and make my hand into a claw because there’s a doll called Clawdeen.

Tennyson is thinking hard, but really struggling to recall the name.

To prod her, I growl again and bring my claw hand toward her face.

“I got it, G-Mom!” she shouts. “You should get Clawmydia!”

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