"badoo badoo"

Blame it on too many Chucky movies, but there's something majorly creepy about children's toys when heard out of playtime context. We seem to have our fair share of those possessed toys.

Two of them are hand-me-downs from my sister Karen. There's the wind-up radio that plays "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." Sounds innocent enough, but just try not freaking out when you hear it over the baby monitor a good number of weeks since you last wound it up. Then there's the turtle (actually, this one's kinda creepy even IN the context of play). As various shapes of buttons are pushed on the back of its shell, a woman's voice identifies them. Another button plays music. But, hold on to your hats, here comes creepy part. It's the nasaly Barney-inspired voice, that says something unintelligle like, "Badoo, Badoo." What does this mean, this Badoo Badoo? I've been woken out of a slumber on at least four occsions by mysterious badoo badoo-ing in the middle of the night - a little disconcerting considering this turtle only says it while being pushed around on his wheels. (INSERT TWILIGHT ZONE THEME HERE.)

The latest, and possibly most disturbing, incident happened just a few nights ago with a toy John Deere tractor Raisin received from Grandma and Grandpa J. In a voice eerily similar to Dr. Phil's, the tractor walks the child through "repairs" that can be done either using a screwdriver or gas can. When there hasn't been any activity for a while, the tractor says, "I think it's time to power down. See you later!" That's your cue to turn the power off -- it's also what made me jolt out of bed about 1:30 a.m. Only this time, it wouldn't stop. "I think it's time to power down (long pause) ...I think it's time to power down (long pause) ... I think it's time to power down (long pause) ..."

Lucky for the husband, he sleeps soundly enough to miss these late-night hauntings, despite my attempts to rouse him out of his sleep "Did you hear that? Raisin's toy...it's ALIVE!!!" After my frantic whispers failed to wake him the other night when Dr. Phil started up, I carefully tip-toed down the stairs to check things out. I half expected to see a life-sized tractor charge at me with a chain saw maniacally chanting, "I think it's time to power down." Luckily, I turned it off just before it had the chance and ran up the stairs as fast as I could.

If the hairless Drowsy doll from the husband's childhood that my mother-in-law generously left with us ever starts in, I'm packing my bags for sure. Until then, I'll keep her safely stuffed in the credenza cabinet.