By Allison Alter of A Tale of Two Mommies
A devoted stay-at-home mom residing in a suburban community met her demise due to her toddler’s cherished stuffed dog he schlepped along to all destinations. The doting child ensured said companion reveled in all manners of substance during the family’s travels, and so loving was the bond that the stuffed member of the family experienced ample rest on all flat surfaces, as well as empty dishware just before meals.
Her husband, fighting through choked tears, noted all went horribly wrong scant hours after their son decided to repeatedly rub his stuffed dog over his mommy’s face. He concluded she must have opened her mouth at the wrong time. It was a tragic, yet surprising accident. The husband explained that after continuous exposure to the stuffed animal, he assumed his wife’s immunity could withstand plagues that decimated entire civilizations.
The child never succumbed to harm from cuddling his prized possession, so there was no way of understanding the magnitude of havoc such an object could cause. In hindsight, all assume the toddler built a resistance to the infested object while spending all available time suckling the cloth until the tan fuzz turned a distorted pea green.
The middle aged couple attempted disposing of the plush object on numerous occasions when the intensity of unidentifiable secretions coating the surface could no longer be ignored or cleaned. On each attempt to rid themselves of their son’s biohazard, they were met with a torrent of terrifying toddler ransacking his environment until he could be reunited with his buddy. With red eyes and wet face, the husband lamented that no demonic tantrum reprieve was worth this outcome; furthermore, he had no earthly notion of where his wife kept their son’s fruit pouches.
Upon learning of the story, agents from the Department of Homeland Security and the Center for Disease Control visited the grieving family, subsequently quarantining the home and its contents before confiscating the dog. Neither government agency would comment on the stuffed animal’s current whereabouts.
Leaving the house, one agent was observed administering pressure to his arm and cursing under his breath some incoherent semblance of, “That fucking kid bit me!” No other comment was ascertained before he fainted from blood loss.
A formal statement was released on social media indicating that the dog will do no more harm to the community; their thoughts and prayers are with the family for their loss.
About the Author
Since the birth of my son, my diversity of hats is far reaching and overlapping. Obviously my role as wife, mother, and daughter are pivotal, but I can claim other, equally important identities that form my existence and ambitions. I’m a special educator by trade. More specifically, I’ve worked in various capacities with at-risk, delinquent, and incarcerated adolescents and adults. I am a licensed social worker, and try to incorporate these values to improve the world around me even if I do not strictly work in the field. I record my mommying life in a blog, as well as create short stories and essays when inspiration strikes. I also organize a parent’s social group, as well as maintain a Facebook Page and Twitter account. Finally, I volunteer for an agency providing rehabilitative programming for the Department of Corrections.