A week ago, I post on Facebook: What’s creepier than your kids’ toys turning on by themselves? Nothing, that’s what.
Here’s how the rest of the story goes:
I hear the mysterious sound drifting out of a bedroom. I look around, confused and concerned, because I am home alone. I creep towards the music: DOODOOODOONTDONTDONT
Yes, that’s exactly what music sounds like when I’m alternating between worrying this music castle with a dancing cinderella and prince would kill me and thinking a psychopathic killer had set off the toy to lure me into the guest room to kill me.
I slide into the bedroom and am greeted by a glowing castle with Cinderella singing and dancing by the giant bay window as though it’s normal to turn on without any human aid. I make it to the toy and hit the off button without a maiming or death, and I’m psyched. Also, jumpy for the rest of the day.
The next morning, it happens again. The music, the creeping, the nonchalant toy although this time I think less psycho-killer and more the clock part of this creepy castle is set to FREAK ALEX OUT.
The morning musical number repeats for a week. Every 9 a.m.-ish, I get a little more comfortable with the toy going off inexplicably. I try the off button, the reset button, the mash-all-the-buttons button. I even send my children up to turn it off since they’re smarter than me. Yet, the castle always sings and dances again with perhaps a little more mocking each day.
Finally, my logically side decides to take drastic measures. When the castle lights go on and the music and dancing begin this morning, the quiet, rational voice in my head reasons: Go on, Alex. Unplug the toy. It’s the ultimate reset button. Unplugging will solve all your problems.
I ignore my own advice to never unplugging anything creepy because confirmed terror is worse than imagined terror, which can only be explained by a slow wearing down of my paranoia by 7 days of castle song into an unusual state of reasonableness.
I pull the plug.
Confirmed terror is much, much worse. I now know the only reason this thing hasn’t impaled me is that IT DOESN’T HAVE LEGS.
PS. Don’t tell me to look for batteries rational voices in my head. I saw Child’s Play. That’s when everything went from bad to worse. Next, my brain will be telling me to wander into my backyard after watching the news update on the local serial killer or take a vacation to Transylvania.
PPS. If anyone saw Child’s Play 3, please let me know how to defeat the castle. I was too traumatized after the first one to continue the series. The irony is not lost on me as I am now in the fight for my life against Cinderella’s castle clock death ticker. I am the true story the movie was based on. Also, time travel.