If we pass on the street and you should see me pushing an old stroller with a headless baby mannequin, please do not judge me.
It will be the thing keeping me sane through the upcoming teen years.
There will be no calling, Mary, Melissa, Matthew, whatever your name is. There will be no bickering that I must attend to and when I need something, I will only have to ask once. When I cook dinner, I will only have to make one meal. When I say no, it will mean no. If they continue to argue with me, I will shush them and tell them the headless baby mannequin is sleeping.
I am thinking about taking my headless baby mannequin dressed in its finest of clothes on outings. Buckled in its car seat I could pick up my son and his friends and take them to sneaker conventions. Push it in a stroller as I meet the Muppets at the bus stop. When we go to restaurants, instead of table of five, I will ask for five and a booster seat.
My children will probably beg me to stop taking the headless baby mannequin to school open houses, parent/teacher conferences, track meets, and chorus concerts. They will never want me to drive them anywhere, they will never invite friends to the house, forget going out in public with dear old mom. When I pick up the headless baby mannequin and start with the baby talk, they will be completely mortified, looking around making sure none of their friends are witnessing. I will take the cutest photos of headless baby mannequin and tag them in their Facebook and Instagram accounts for all their friends to see. I can imagine next year’s Christmas card already.
See, I told you headless baby mannequin would be keeping me sane during the approaching teen years.