Toodie

She is the bane of my existence, this Toodie. She's poked holes in the door panels of my new-to-me 4runner with knitting needles, she's ripped ten dollar bills in half, written on the sofa and the kitchen walls, crumpled up homework and much, much more.

She is the imaginary friend of the girlie. To be fair, apprarently there is good Toodie...who plays games and dollhouse and helps with puzzles and bad Toodie who wreaks havoc with my life.

I have threatened to kick Bad Toodie out of our lives only to be met by crying and caterwauling. My son has sat on Bad Toodie and threatened her. (Which, really, this is something to see) My husband has threatened to leave her at the store or restaurant or wherever when she's causing a problem. Ripping clothes off the racks? Toodie did it. Rip open all the sugar packets at a restaurant? Damn Toodie.

I might have posted about this before but Toodie took a little sabbatical and it seems that she's returned. Seriously, people think I'm crazy when I roll my eyes and say with a sigh "Toodie" as I discover the citronella candle buckets filled with sand and dirt. Not that I'm not crazy but I try to keep it a closely guarded secret.