Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
I’d been called to the “fun house” on the edge of town to investigate what sounded like a paranormal situation. When I pushed open the creaky door, the smell hit me hard. It was a musty mix of wet carpet and baby powder. Weird combo, I thought. My eyes adjusted to the dim glow of a blinking Game Boy Color screen and there it was. A creature slinking in the corner. Its face was a smudge of a shadow and it had many (too many) teeth.
“Well,” I said, aloud, patting my hip where my “Mama Kit” (a custom duffel bag with a sippy cup, pacifier, and a vintage rattle) hung, “you’re not what I expected.” It hissed. I giggled. “Oh, you’re spicy. I like that.” Drawing on years of experience comforting mommy’s boys and toys, I waddled closer, patting the floor. “Here, let’s sit down like grown-ups.” I sat, crossing my legs. The creature paused, with its too-long fingers twitching. Casually, I pulled out the rattle and clicked it. “I bring treats,” I added, unzipping the duffel to reveal a stash of glow-in-the-dark lollipops (for emergencies).
