mom and dad, i know you think i am so, so weird already. i'm ok with that. but here's something i have to know if YOU'RE ok with: what if, instead of getting married and living in a house with beige walls, i just start collecting scary dolls? hundreds and hundreds of them. and i live alone with them and talk to them at night. would you ever start calling them your "grandbabies?" come on, look at these little gems! how could you say no to their cracked, feral-toothed little faces?
(the bottom one looks like she's making a face of slight constipation, which is ADORABLE with a capital A, in my book.)
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