"Yes. Okay. We're putting the babies on the grill now. Uh huh. Sure. Buh-bye."
I waited until Brooklyn hung up and asked her, "Putting the babies on the grill???"
"Yeah, our boss told us to, so we could eat them."
"Your boss? Your boss told you to put babies on a grill? And more importantly, you listened to him?"
I wasn't sure what was more disturbing - the fact that a pretend person was telling my daughters to become cannibals, the fact that they were listening to this pretend person and thought it was perfectly acceptable to grill their dolls, or the fact that I was even questioning this line of thinking.
I walked over to "the grill" where Lexi and Brooklyn had their dolls all lined up, just roasting away.
Oh well, maybe they were on to something. I mean, I can't get Brooklyn to eat more than chocolate milk and peanut butter sandwiches. In fact, tonight, she informed me, "I'm not really into tacos, Mom. I'll just have ice cream."
